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#but I couldn't look at this anymore it was just getting worse by the second
wrr000 · 2 days
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"Can you be quiet for five minutes?"
AN: hello! i wrote this for fun, it's nothing serious or special, i just needed to do something with myself. hope y'all will enjoy it anyway lol (also, i had that one scene from shrek 2 in mind)
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Summary: the night wasn't peaceful for the ghoul because reader talks too much
Warnings: english is not my first language; reader is female; it was supposed to be more of a comedic oneshot; a lot of inner thoughts
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The night was getting cold. Chilly air mixed with the pleasant warmth emanating from the fire, touching your red cheeks. It was a nice feeling, especially after a whole day of walking in the brutal heat. The sun was killing you and the night was a nice change.
'I fucking hate wasteland', you thought to yourself every day.
Burning sun, disgusting monsters, crazy raiders or even that ghoul, literally everything could kill you any minute. It was hard to survive out there alone ans you knew that. Maybe that was a reason why you didn't ran away from him yet.
"So...", you couldn't stand the silnce anymore, "are you gonna finally untie me?"
You sat by the bonfire with your legs pressed to your chest, staring into the sparkling flames. Hands still tightly tied, of course. The other end of the lasso held the ghoul whom you met a few days ago.
He was sitting on the other side of the fire, leaning against a huge piece of something wooden. He looked like he was sleeping with a cowboy hat covering his face. The ghoul wasn't like anyone you've met before, but you weren't sure if it was a blessing or a curse. He did tied you up after all and have gave you no choice, but to travel with him to God-knows-where. On the positive side - he didn't killed you. And that was something unexpected.
"Hellooo..? Did you hear me, Mr. Ghoul?", you never called him like that before, but you wanted any interaction.
No response. Was he really sleeping or just pretending that he didn't hear you?
It was in his style, to be honest. Ever since you met him, he seemed cold, selfish, like he doesn't care about anything else in the world but him. Sometimes straight up annoying, sometimes kinda funny and nice in a twisted way. These mixed feelings made you somewhat intrigued.
"Listen lady" , he didn't looked at you. "I need some peace and quiet so no stupid questions or talkin', got it?"
"Oh, come on! We have been travelling for days! I'm not gonna do anything stupid", it was this time when he was just annoying as hell.
"I bet you won't, sweetheart", you knew he smirked under that stupid hat.
"So what, are you gonna keep me like this to what? Sell me for chems? Or eat me one day?", you spoke once again. "You know, both options are pretty problematic for you because, I mean, you are really planning to sell skinny, dehydrated girl and hoping for decent payment?", fake scoff escaped your mouth. "Keep dreaming. I am way more useful as a compa-"
By anything stupid you meant something like killing him or running away. First of all, he was very skilled and you knew that attacking him was suicidal mission. Second of all, you could try to escape, but you didn't know if it was even possible with this man and did you really wanted to?
On one hand, there were plenty ways for him to hurt you. Shooting, beating, selling, starving you to death or worse - eating you alive. It was something... common on the wasteland. People were doing everything to survive and as crazy as it sounded, you understood it, the ghoul knew it as well. But on the other hand, after raiders killed your parents, life became harder than before. You hated it and what you hated more was loneliness. You had none, no friend and no family left. Maybe it was delusional, but you hoped for befriending the ghoul and travel with him for a little longer. Or maybe he could help you made it to town where you could stay. In that situation you didn't have many options (it didn't work by force anyway) to consider or anything to lose, to be honest.
"Oh, for fu-", he straightened up, finally looking at you.
You didn't have many opportunities to meet him face to face and take a closer look. Beautiful eyes spoke more than thousand words, that's for sure. The most noticeable thing was the lack of a nose, but aside that the face was handsome. You could imagine how he looked like before the ghoulification. In fact, you always thought that people were exaggerating with their disgust towards non-feral ghouls. They were still humans, right?
"You asked me a milion questions already, while I couldn't ask you one", you heard the irritation in his voice. "You better don't cross the line"
That silence was overhelming. Sure, the sound of camfire was nice, but your thoughts were getting weirder and weirder. You needed something to occupy your mind and because you weren't the best at small talk (or starting a conversation at all) you came up with the stupidest idea.
Classic threating. You rised your tided hands, palms facing him in surrender. It wasn't the right time to ask about the future and you didn't wanna cross the line, at least not that night. He was looking at you for a moment, making sure you wouldn't ask anything else and returned to his previous position.
You stared at him, trying to figure out what he was thinking about and you couldn't read him. Not before, not now and probably not in the near future. He seemed like he could always read your mind while being completely unpredictable to you. What he thought about you? What was his plan? You should be very scared or just scared? Many questions were running in your head, but you couldn't find answer for none.
"What it's like to be a ghoul?", you mentally slapped yourself, but there was no turning back now. "I mean, how did you become a ghoul? It was quick or it was a long process? My parents never told me much about ghouls"
Deep, long sigh escaped his mouth. He looked at you again, not bothering to move his body. Even someone like him lacked words and strength for you.
"Did someone ever told that you talk so much?", a ghost of a smile crept across his face.
"Actually, yes, my father told me that once", you smiled proudly.
"No lesson learned", you quite enjoyed his harsh voice with strange accent. He definitely didn't talk enough. "Can you be quiet for five minutes?"
"Hm, I'm afriad no, Mister", then it striked you. "I don't know your name! I won't shut up until you will told me your name. Wait, you do have a name, right?"
"Yes", you felt annoyed again by his lack of cooperation.
"Well..? You know my name, even you don't use it, may I know yours?"
"Cooper", the ghoul hide his face under the hat again. "Now, let me rest for a while, will ya?"
Bright smile appeared on your face. That was what you called a progress. It was genuinely a cool name and suddenly you started to wonder if he liked yours.
"But...", you heard a growl from under the hat, "we will talk about what to do next? I know how things works out here, but... We don't have to be enemies. I know you want to survive and I don't wanna be your prisoner forever"
You were on thin ice and for the first (and not last) time in your life you couldn't gather your thoughts. You wanted to tell him a lot of things in one go.
"I'm not your enemy, sweetheart, you don't have to worry. Now sleep or I'll have to shoot that pretty face"
You noded quietly. You knew that tomorrow you would try to talk to him again, still hoping for some sort of cooperation or agreement. Your life was on the line, after all. Not to mention that he called you pretty and even another threat couldn't take it away from you. Maybe that was the sign that he doesn't mean no harm to you, there was a hope, at least.
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fraugwinska · 11 hours
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Hhggffffffgg… pweasd.. pweasd more Leap of Faith. Part two of them meeting each other in hell. Pretty sure they’d end up in hell since suicide is a sin, iirc?
Uweh wahhhh. Felt it real deep of losing the only meaningful connection, the big sadness taking over. I’m sobbing. My heart—
Your writing is amazing as always. I eat that shit up.
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...The people have spoken. I am your humble servant. Please accept this offering...
Heavy themes, religious trauma, mental/physical torture Minors please DNI
❤️🦌❤️🦌❤️🦌❤️🦌❤️🦌❤️🦌❤️🦌❤️🦌❤️🦌❤️🦌❤️
Between the Devil and the Deep Blue Sea
Like a shooting star.
You looked like a shooting star against the purple, starless sky of the pride ring, a glowing gold and teal line trailing behind you like a tail.
Alastor pushed his shadows faster through the streets of the pentagram, not a care who he pushed, sliced or scared out of the way - he had to get to you, had to catch you and not let you crash into unforgiving ground, like it was mundane, like you were any other meaningless, unimportant, goddamned sinner.
He couldn't allow it. Wouldn't allow it.
Faster and faster your form grew shape, and he realized that the big, heavy radio that was still in your arms - still pressed tightly to your chest - acted like an anchor, accelerating your plunge, threatening to shatter you into the hard, stony streets underneath, or worse: Through.
"Let go!", he hissed desperately to himself, pulling and yanking and gnashing and urging his shadows to work to their limit, whipping them into a speed that could break both, him and the damned radio, if need be, if you would just slow down and gain him a few more crucial seconds to get to you. The distance between you and him shrunk until your fall felt close, so close, too close, as though if you'd only be conscious to just reach out and outstretch a hand to him, his eldritch tendrils could grab it.
"Come on." His dark silhouette growled, partly manifesting and elongating himself more to maneuver around the last alley corner. "Almost... THERE!"
As a streak of blinding light, like a lightning bolt, and with the force of a crashing plane, you smashed into his solid, physical demonic form, as Alastor manifested into an extension of flesh and limbs right beneath your descending trajectory, and swallowed you right there in his arms before both of you hit the ground.
***
The void around you was dark. Quiet. Endless and expanding. You couldn't feel anything other than the feeling of nothingness surrounding you, floating but at the same time... not. No ground beneath, no sky above - you didn't even know when you hit the water. Was it even water anymore? Did it matter?
In the blindness, you registered the vanta black around you fading into white, bright and scorching. And that feeling you previously lacked bloomed to the front of your consciousness: Pain. Like a thousand needles poking out from every corner of your skull, making you yelp out and whimper. You shifted your body, or at least tried, only to cry out and curl up into yourself, clutching whatever the big and heavy thing was in your arms, tight as the muscles in your upper body convulsed, twitched and trembled at the burning pain. Where the hell were you?
"𝓦𝓮'𝓿𝓮 𝓵𝓸𝓸𝓴𝓮𝓭 𝓲𝓷𝓽𝓸 𝔂𝓸𝓾𝓻 𝓼𝓸𝓾𝓵, 𝓬𝓱𝓲𝓵𝓭. 𝓣𝓱𝓮𝓻𝓮'𝓼 𝓭𝓪𝓻𝓴𝓷𝓮𝓼𝓼 𝓲𝓷𝓼𝓲𝓭𝓮 𝔂𝓸𝓾𝓻 𝓱𝓮𝓪𝓻𝓽.""
A voice made out of a thousand voices spoke, and it resonated from within you – amplified through every cell of your body, booming and mighty and utterly inhumane. You screamed out the pressure it put on your brain, cried as it felt as though something was pouring into you and flowing out all at once, burning, devouring and replacing every fiber, every strand of DNA. You writhed in agony, wanting to beg for whatever it was to stop, but you were in the hands of an infinite power above you, and so, all you could do was howl and weep.
"𝓘𝓽 𝓱𝓪𝓼 𝓽𝓪𝓴𝓮𝓷 𝓻𝓸𝓸𝓽 𝓲𝓷 𝔂𝓸𝓾, 𝓵𝓲𝓴𝓮 𝓪 𝔀𝓮𝓮𝓭 𝓲𝓷 𝓯𝓮𝓻𝓽𝓲𝓵𝓮 𝓼𝓸𝓲𝓵."
It was men and women and children, high and deep and loud and quiet and screams and whispers and it overwhelmed you to listen to it.
"𝓑𝓾𝓽 𝔀𝓮 𝓪𝓻𝓮 𝓶𝓮𝓻𝓬𝓲𝓯𝓾𝓵. 𝓘𝓯 𝔂𝓸𝓾 𝓱𝓪𝓿𝓮 𝓽𝓱𝓮 𝔀𝓲𝓵𝓵 𝓽𝓸 𝓻𝓮𝓹𝓮𝓷𝓽, 𝓽𝓸 𝓻𝓲𝓭 𝔂𝓸𝓾𝓻𝓼𝓮𝓵𝓯 𝓯𝓻𝓸𝓶 𝓽𝓱𝓮 𝓮𝓿𝓲𝓵 𝓿𝓲𝓷𝓮, 𝔀𝓮 𝔀𝓲𝓵𝓵 𝓻𝓲𝓹 𝓲𝓽 𝓸𝓾𝓽 𝓪𝓷𝓭 𝓰𝓻𝓪𝓷𝓽 𝔂𝓸𝓾 𝓮𝓷𝓽𝓻𝔂 𝓲𝓷𝓽𝓸 𝓗𝓮𝓪𝓿𝓮𝓷."
Your throbbing hands cramped around the object in your arms, nails scratching on the surface. Wood. Soft wood, warm beneath your fingertips.
"Alastor...", you sobbed through clenched teeth, memories slowly pushing through the pain to the front of your mind, clawing their way through the thick haze of the booming voice of the entity. "I want to go to Alastor..."
"𝓜𝔂 𝓬𝓱𝓲𝓵𝓭, 𝓭𝓸 𝓷𝓸𝓽 𝓶𝓪𝓴𝓮 𝓽𝓱𝓲𝓼 𝓬𝓱𝓸𝓲𝓬𝓮 𝓸𝓾𝓽 𝓸𝓯 𝓱𝓪𝓼𝓽𝓮. 𝓓𝓸 𝓷𝓸𝓽 𝓪𝓬𝓬𝓮𝓹𝓽 𝓽𝓱𝓮 𝓽𝓮𝓶𝓹𝓽𝓪𝓽𝓲𝓸𝓷 𝓸𝓯 𝓮𝓿𝓲𝓵."
"He's not..." A low moan spilled past your dry, bitten lips as another wave of excruciating pain crashed down your spine. Tears stained your cheeks as the radio in your arms felt heavier and heavier, dangerously close to slip from your grip.
"𝓣𝓱𝓲𝓼 𝓭𝓮𝓶𝓸𝓷, 𝓽𝓱𝓲𝓼 𝓬𝓸𝓻𝓻𝓾𝓹𝓽𝓮𝓭 𝓼𝓸𝓾𝓵 𝓼𝓱𝓪𝓵𝓵 𝓷𝓸𝓽 𝓱𝓪𝓿𝓮 𝓱𝓲𝓼 𝔀𝓲𝓬𝓴𝓮𝓭 𝓲𝓷𝓯𝓵𝓾𝓮𝓷𝓬𝓮 𝓸𝓷 𝔂𝓸𝓾."
The voice was patient, neutral, not showing any sign of rage or warmth or even condescension. It only held a commanding power, like a pull from gravity, unintentional, elemental, to give in, to accept, to repent. But you couldn't. Couldn't even if you tried. The tears that came to your eyes now weren't out of pain alone, but because you couldn't help the insurmountable longing to leave, to not be held back any longer.
"Alastor isn't evil or wicked...", your cracked voice whispered. "Not to me..."
"𝓓𝔂𝓲𝓷𝓰 𝓯𝓸𝓻 𝓵𝓸𝓿𝓮 𝓲𝓼 𝓪𝓷 𝓪𝓬𝓽 𝓸𝓯 𝓪𝓽𝓸𝓷𝓮𝓶𝓮𝓷𝓽, 𝓸𝓯 𝓻𝓮𝓹𝓮𝓷𝓽𝓪𝓷𝓬𝓮. 𝓑𝓾𝓽 𝓲𝓯 𝓭𝔂𝓲𝓷𝓰 𝓲𝓼 𝓭𝓸𝓷𝓮 𝔀𝓲𝓽𝓱 𝓽𝓱𝓮 𝓲𝓷𝓽𝓮𝓷𝓽𝓲𝓸𝓷 𝓸𝓯 𝓰𝓸𝓲𝓷𝓰 𝓪𝓼𝓽𝓻𝓪𝔂, 𝓽𝓸𝔀𝓪𝓻𝓭𝓼 𝓪 𝓽𝔀𝓲𝓼𝓽𝓮𝓭 𝓲𝓭𝓮𝓪 𝓸𝓯 𝓪𝓯𝓯𝓮𝓬𝓽𝓲𝓸𝓷, 𝔂𝓸𝓾 𝓪𝓻𝓮 𝓭𝓪𝓶𝓷𝓮𝓭 𝓯𝓸𝓻 𝓮𝓽𝓮𝓻𝓷𝓲𝓽𝔂. 𝓛𝓮𝓽 𝓾𝓼 𝓼𝓱𝓸𝔀 𝔂𝓸𝓾 𝔀𝓱𝓪𝓽 𝓽𝓱𝓪𝓽 𝔀𝓸𝓾𝓵𝓭 𝓶𝓮𝓪𝓷, 𝓒𝓱𝓲𝓵𝓭."
Torture. It felt as though someone was physically digging through you with dull claws, sawing into your very soul, bending, ripping, breaking and rearranging, molding the picture you had of Alastor to a villain, a torturer, a destroyer, a greedy animal without reason, feasting upon human despair and wailing screams, wreaking havoc and taking lives laughing along the way as he rips fangs into flesh that looked like your own.
"That... isn't him.", you mouthed breathlessly, forcing yourself to focus. "You're a liar."
You fought to come back, with the sound of Alastor's smiling voice, molten with static and spoken with feeling. 'And I can most assure you... pretty is a well fitting word to describe you.'.
"Liar... liar... LIAR!"
The illusion the entity conjured around you began to shatter, as did the images it showed you, breaking and tearing away like rotten paper from the ones you wanted to hold on to... The hours and days and nights spent together, the long and entertaining conversations over meals, his teasing comments and your quick-wit responses, the little things that made his voice lift an octave and a tiny huff, which you learned over the weeks was him trying not to chuckle at your banter. The softness in his tune when he realized you were drifting into slumber. The way he called you his dove.
"𝓦𝓮 𝓪𝓻𝓮 𝔂𝓸𝓾𝓻 𝓵𝓪𝓼𝓽 𝓬𝓱𝓪𝓷𝓬𝓮. 𝓛𝓮𝓽 𝓾𝓼 𝓼𝓪𝓿𝓮 𝔂𝓸𝓾, 𝓒𝓱𝓲𝓵𝓭."
the entity said, though their tone had begun to waver, echoing withing the faint sound of breaking glass.
"𝓛𝓮𝓪𝓿𝓮 𝔀𝓲𝓽𝓱 𝔂𝓸𝓾𝓻 𝓲𝓷𝓷𝓸𝓬𝓮𝓷𝓬𝓮 𝓹𝓻𝓮𝓼𝓮𝓻𝓿𝓮𝓭. 𝓛𝓮𝓪𝓿𝓮 𝓽𝓱𝓪𝓽 𝓼𝓽𝓪𝓲𝓷 𝓸𝓷 𝔂𝓸𝓾𝓻 𝓼𝓸𝓾𝓵, 𝓽𝓱𝓪𝓽 𝓭𝓮𝓶𝓸𝓷 𝓫𝓮𝓱𝓲𝓷𝓭, 𝓪𝓬𝓬𝓮𝓹𝓽 𝓸𝓾𝓻 𝓼𝓪𝓵𝓿𝓪𝓽𝓲𝓸𝓷, 𝓸𝓻 𝓫𝓮, 𝓯𝓸𝓻𝓮𝓿𝓮𝓻, 𝓪 𝓵𝓸𝓼𝓽 𝓼𝓸𝓾𝓵 𝓲𝓷 𝓽𝓱𝓮 𝓮𝔂𝓮𝓼 𝓸𝓯 𝓰𝓸𝓭."
You felt heat creeping up your legs, as if your skin was bubbling, burning and it was hard to speak, as the smell of cauterized flesh and blood filled your nose. Bones were shifting, limbs trembling and twisting as if they wanted to turn you inside out, skin color changing and fading into palish white, nails growing into slender blue talons, something rough and rigid sprouting from your back and shoulders. But you only tightened your arms around the radio, eyes pressed close and teeth grit together.
You've had enough.
"Fuck your lies, fuck your salvation and FUCK. YOUR. GOD."
Gravity returned in an instant, like someone cut a hole through space, the air and heat from your lungs gone as it ripped you from the strange white with unexpected violence – malevolence even - body flaying in the sudden wind of the descend.
Purple and red shades swirled before your eyes, wild strands of glittering golden hair fluttered in and out of your vision, barely recognizing them as your own. The heat of the air and the sight of a black pentagram on a red sun, sinking slowly beyond a tumbling horizon were the last things you noticed before unconsciousness reached mercifully out to claim you again.#
***
“Angel! Get Charlie over here, I found 'im!”
Husk stared down the crater, trying to wrap his head around the sight before him. His ears flicked as he heard Angel shouting something unintelligible to the girls, his footsteps quickly nearing the place where he stood.
“She's comin' in a sec, she and Vagina ran ova' to the maneater colony to get Rosie and... what in Satans left ballsack?!”
The spiders' eyes widened when he saw what Husk saw - Down the deep and wide cavity, right in the middle, was a twitching, faintly green glowing mass of tentacles and limbs. A distorted groan rumbled from below, thick and riddled with static feedback as Alastor's corrupted form slowly receded to normalcy – as normal as he was. He was lying on his back, curled around the motionless form of a naked female demon. Her legs were pulled up, a limp hand with short, teal talons pressed against the side of the radio demons wild, madly grinning face, while the other was trapped and hidden in between both bodies.
Both Angel and Husks hairs stood on ends at the sound he made, not daring to move or draw attention to themselves until Alastor had regained full consciousness and, most of all, reason back. The unknown sinner that was pressed against Alastor's chest had gray, crooked looking wings sprouting from her back, various shades of teal staining the ragged tips. Her skin was white, bordering on cream with some spruce and azure specks that traveled over her neck and shoulders. From where they stood they could see blonde locks tangled in Alastor's claws, shimmering in hell's twilight as if they were made out of real gold.
Angel gave his partner a nervous side glance, as if expecting him to say or do something. "Should we... holy mother of shitballs, this is so fucked up... umm... should we get them out of..."
"̷S̷̷ T̷̷ A̷̷ Y̷ ̷W̷̷ H̷̷ E̷̷ R̷̷ E̷ ̷Y̷̷ O̷̷ U̷ ̷A̷̷ R̷̷ E̷."
Husk had only heard Alastor's voice like this on a few occasions and those instances had almost always ended in bloodshed. He shook his head at Angel in a silent warning, gripping one of his wrists when the blackened pits of the radio demon found his, glaring at him with glowing crimson iris'. It sent a shiver down the cat's back, and Angel, feeling the tremble of his partner and sensing that this was a rare occasion where he should keep his usual, lewd remarks to himself, cleared his throat.
"I-Is a'ight Smiles, we're not movin'. Charlies' comin, and she's bringin' Rosie, so just... chill, okay? No one's gonna hurt y-your uh... girlfriend?" Angel forced himself to remain eye contact, swallowing against the growing lump in his throat.
Alastor didn't answer for a good minute or two, eyes shifting over Husks' grim, but wary face and Angels worried one, before looking back down, the flames of anger and fear dying as soon as his gaze fell on the woman cradled in his lap. Her pale, motionless face was partially hidden by her hair, but the features he recognized were much like the ones she had before she did the unthinkable. Her breathing was slow and shallow - but, above all, she was here, right here, next to him, unbroken from the fall, safe in his arms...
He brushed a few stray strands of her golden mane aside, watching closely as her chest barely heaved and fell, transfixed at the movement, the guarantee that she lived. He lifted one his hands to caress her cheek, the motion much more careful and tender than either Angel or Husk thought him capable of, wiping off tiny pieces of debris from the radio she had carried like a lifeline. It had been burst by the impact, splinters of mahogany wood and shards of metal wiring scattered around them both. The top of her left wing had suffered some damage, no doubt the result of the force of his grip as he caught her, little cuts and smears of dried blood covering her sides.
"My dove. My foolish, silly, lonely girl.", his strained voice breathed, his usual filter missing, as he turned her unresponsive face gently with the tip of his claw, hoping to see any indication that the girl that he had driven to the lengths of sheer, reckless stupidity was still here with him.
The sound of steps on the broken concrete made his head turn with a sickening crack. Alastor was now curled completely over you, his arms wrapped tightly around your figure, hiding your vulnerable and exposed body from view. Rosie had arrived alongside the princess and her partner, all of them short of breath and as shocked and confused as the other two demons to find the radio demon and a freshly fallen sinner, locked into an awkward embrace.
He watched her kneeling next to him, her expression was best described as compassionate curiosity. When he didn't move, didn't talk, didn't acknowledge her presence around him, his form only slightly moving to shield your motionless frame away, Rosie, ever the understanding and pragmatic lady she was, carefully reached over to him and set a gloved hand onto his shoulder in reassurance. Her razor sharp smile was soft as she held his blackened gaze for a heartbeat.
"Seems like I will meet your little dove after all, my dearest friend. But now, let's get you both somewhere safe."
***
You opened your eyes to red. All red. Everywhere red. Warm and bright and comforting.
A sensation tickled your head and nose, feathers, brushing the top of them with a barely there touch. You wanted to brush them away, but your arms felt heavy and warped and strange, unable to be lifted. Slow blinks put your eyes into focus, like the lens of a camera that was getting adjusted on it's intended shot.
You were looking at a red painted ceiling, and when you strained your aching head to tilt a little your eyes slowly wandered over luscious, ornate wallpaper in burgundy's and scarlet's, morbid looking horns and skulls mounted on the walls next to slightly askew, empty picture frames. A heavy, dark bookcase on your right was full of tattered tombs, books and magazines, small models of twisted looking skeletons and an old, vintage... radio...
Everything clicked back into place.
Alastor, gone.
The bridge, dark over the water.
The black and the white.
The voice and the pain and the lies and the fall...
Your breath hitched, and your heart started to pound faster and louder, thrumming violently in your ears as you fell into panic, eyes frantically forcing your body to move, to search, until you realized you were stuck underneath the weighted presence of a head that rested upon your sternum, tufts of soft black and red hair draped over your chest, slightly covering a face hidden away in the crook of your neck. A low, quiet hum of white noise came from the person the head belonged to, sitting at your bedside and upper body half-slumped over you... a sound resonating deep within you, stirring up all too familiar feelings.
He was still, but clearly breathing, and he hadn't moved even though your pulse must've skyrocketed. A raspy gasp of relief and astonishment escaped you. It had worked. You really had done it. And Alastor...
You started to sob, loud and violent, your chest burning and heavy, but not out of fear or panic anymore but the impact of a thousand feelings of pure happiness. The sounds woke the creature slumbering on your shoulder, his shoulders twitched, and you could see him lift his head to slowly look up, dark circles under his crimson eyes.
Your name rolled over this demons lips, not a word, no greeting, only a longingly whispered name, spoken with a broken, ragged, familiar voice. It made you finally cry, tears spilling from you uncontrollably, unable to stop, unable to think. You heard him call your name again, saw the widening grin of his mouth through watery eyes, his arm reaching out to brush your tear-stained cheek. He didn't manage to even fully extend his fingers when your shaking hands reached out to grab his lapels, pulling him into you so that you could finally touch him, feel him instead of just hearing him. Finally tangible, finally underneath your fingers as well as your skin.
"It's you... i-it's you right?", you stammered breathlessly, voice wrought with tears of happiness. "A-Alastor. I found you, I'm not dreaming, You're Alastor..."
"At your service, my dear...", Alastor shushed softly, one hand gently caressing your hair as you leaned into the warmth of the touch. His wide smile wavered for a moment, gaze shifting to something sad and mournful as he pulled himself away to look at you.
"But you shouldn't be here, my dove." He sighed, but as he looked back to you and saw the frightened, horrified expression on your face he shook his head, leaning his brow against your own, a gesture of assurance.
"I never intended for you to be here. You didn't deserve this death, and hell doesn't deserve you."
"H-Heaven can take a long walk off a short pier..." You tried to speak with a steady voice, but failed, as your whole body began to shudder in bubbling anger at the mere implication of this cursed entity. The one that claimed to be merciful salvation but had no problem with cruel manipulation. You blinked a couple of tears away, drawing a trembling breath, before meeting his tired eyes.
"I was... in some strange place. I was offered redemption, if I..."
You frowned, sitting up slowly, careful not to make him withdraw more, holding onto the sleeves of his jacket with stiff, aching hands.
"They wanted me to denounce you. If I renounced you they... would've let me enter heaven. When I didn't want to, when I said I wanted to go to you... They showed me things while hurting me. Horrible, disgusting lies."
Your breath quickened and the corners of your vision darkened, and you realized with a shuddering panic that you were close, way too close to breaking down into sobs again. Your claw-like nails dug into the material of his sleeve as you struggled to compose yourself, ripping tiny cuts into it. You took a deep breath, pushing through the memory, reliving it until...
Your shoulders shook. For a moment, you felt him shifting, as if he'd expected you to burst into tears again. Instead, you laughed. You laughed despite your chest hurt, and even harder when you saw his floored, surprised face.
"I basically told god to go fuck himself."
For a heartbeat or two, silence enveloped both of you. Alastor blinked once, then twice, the third time his grin fell slowly. Another beat later he buried his face in the crook of your neck and...
...the boisterous, unmuted laughter, roaring, insane cackling, so deep and resounding, you could feel it in your stomach, erupted from him. Alastor almost toppled over as he tore himself from you, raking a hand trough his hair as his head shook, a manic, wonderfully impish grin tugging on the corners of his mouth.
"You know I don't think you were honest with me about your name, dove. Your initial answer of 'crazy' seems much more fitting."
Alastor was laughing so hard, his whole body was trembling with the effort. You felt yourself giggle, then unrestrained laughing along, but it died in your throat when his lips found yours in a sudden swift moment. It was full of everything. Full of curiosity, of promises and hope, it was the saving grace you sacrificed heaven for. You smiled into it, moved your lips against his, gentle and chaste, before he pulled away too soon and pressed his forehead against yours. You could feel his warm, slow breathing against your cheeks.
"How fortunate for you that I work best with 'crazy'."
Your beaming smile slowly faded, your hands finding his face to make him look at you. There was one more weight you had to lift off.
"I'm sorry.", you whispered, closing your eyes. “I'm sorry for...”
"Don't be, dear. I was at fault, fearing our connection would... weaken me." He sighed. "You might not understand it right now, but I will tell you everything, once you're fully recovered. Can you wait for that?"
You nodded, a small, grateful curl forming on your lips. You opened your eyes to stare into his, crimson, bright and intense, and yet soft and affectionate. Eyes you always tried to envision, although nothing you imagined came close to the real thing.
"Do you... still think it?", you asked, voice shaking slightly.
Alastor hummed a questioning noise, prompting you to continue, which you did, after a second of hesitation. "Me, weakening you. Do you still think it?"
His quiet laughter resounded in your ears, filling you with warmth and making your heart skip a beat.
"My silly, darling dove. With the woman on my side who dared to throw curses at the face of our very creator - What could ever stop me now?"
And, as Alastor's smile grew wide, and your own mirrored it, you were claimed by red claws and a hot, eager mouth once again, kissed again by those soft, sinful lips, the lips of your friend, your savior, your love - the devil himself, whispering the answer to his question unspoken through your skin right into your heart.
Nothing could stop the both of you now.
Nothing at all.
Taglist for the most awsome people that walk the earth: @littledolly2345 @sleepywritersworld @crescentparadise @rapturenyx-blog @phisen @alastorsgirl48 @mullet-mother @sirens-and-moonflowers
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Text
Does it hurt?
Ximena Riley x 141 Task Force
AN: OH get ready. Here comes some angst. This will get dark and emotional. So get ready ~
Masterlist This leads to events
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Dim lights filled the space. A small confined room. A single chair in the middle. And a single person. A woman.
Her curls swept forward as she leaned in. Her hands bind behind her, and she softly was breathing. Trying to keep herself awake. Her deep brown eyes scanning around as she gave a small tug on the rope. She almost got it off.
But the door spilled open, letting the hallway lights flutter in. Her eyes linger to the door and the large pair of boots coming in. Gentle even, which the past few weeks it hasn't been like that.
"Ximena... Come on Lass just give us what we want." The voice was stern but trying to be gentle. A soft scoff left her lips as she shut her eyes.
"I told you what I know John... And I'll keep repeating what I know is true. I didn't betray you lots." Ximena stated as she scoot back in her seat. Her curls cascading down her shoulders and down the back of the chair. Her feet were tied apart. Knowing she can get out most holdings.
Price had a force thin smile. Rubbing a hand through his beard as he walked around her
"Anything. Give me anything Ximena. We have a faithful resource that said otherwise" he stopped behind her for a second. Softly yanking her curls back.
Snapping her head back as she winced in the pain. Her eyes snapped to him as she growled
"let go-"
"You need to give us something. We don't wanna hurt you anymore Ximena!" He shoved her head away as she groaned a bit.
"Then hurt me! I don't care!" Her voice was a bit hoarse. She felt the pain internally but as a trained soldier she never needed to show it.
She couldn't, it was a liability. It could risk her life, even now with those she loves. Her eyes stuck to the floor as she frown. A deep sadness in her eyes as she shut them.
Don't give in. Don't give in. Don't do it-
The door opened again and shut. Price went quiet as he stared at the larger man. A man he was hoping to not see.
"Ghost-"
"Let me at 'er Capt. I need a go...." His gravely voice was a bit softer. But the edge was clear. Even Ximena felt it as she sat back in her seat. Her posture corrected as she glanced to the man she loves.
Worse part was during all of this. She wasn't mad. She was just saddened by the leading events that lead to this.
Some damn bastard...
Her thoughts trailed as she didn't noticed Price left them be. Her eyes softly shook as she gazed down to the floor. No. No. Don't leave me with him...
His steps were calm. Walking towards her as he yanked her head up. Her eyes tried to stay stuck below her, but his warm hands forced to her look up. Softly he squished her cheeks as he forced her lips to pout.
"Speak up. That's all you havta do..."
"Never. Because there's nothing to say!" She spat at him as she yanked her face away. Glancing to the side as she noticed the torture tools in the room. All littered with her blood by now.
Her breathing became a bit shallow as she sighs. Trying to keep her emotions in line-
Ghost yanked a fist full of her curls as he knealt to her height. His brown eyes bore into hers. The mass wave of sadness and frustration painted his eyes.
"I need ya to say something. Anything. I do not wanna hurt you Ximena-"
"If you don't get the right thing you want. It'll lead to getting hurt more... So no." She told him with determination in her face.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
After viscous hours of pain and torment. Ximena's face was bruised and beat up. Blood was dripping down her face. Feeling her cheeks swell and her eye sight blur.
Cuts litter her exposed body. Her blood was splatter on the floor.
Ghost himself was litter with it even.
The door burst open. And a rookie coming in huffing, spoke up. Ghost was close to ringing him out till the words echoed in the quiet room.
"She's... Not the traitor..." He said as he stared at the two.
"There was no traitor..." He said as he noticed the pair stiff.
Ximena's eyes shook as she processed this. Her head rolled back as the blood loss caught up to her. She stayed stump in the chair as her body lost consciousness
Ghost stared at the rookie with blinded rage
"You're fucken kidding?! You ot to be fucken kidding me right now!" He roared the words as the rookie left the room. His breathing became labor, harsh and brittle even.
"you're ...fucken..." He let a sigh out as he ran his gloves hands over his face. Starting to feel terrible. He glanced to his wife with concern.
He did this
He
Did
This
The realization hit him like bricks. He was a terrible soldier. He tortured an innocent person.
He harmed his wife.
His other half. And worse he didn't believe her for a second. Not a second through the months of this rigours process.
He
Doubted
Her
For
Months
The words swirled in his head as he shut his eyes tight.
How could he fix this. Them. Their relationship. Their family. Their everything-
The door opened again as his thoughts were going a million miles a minute. And Laswell stared at the two. Her eyes shook a bit as she got the medics in to take Ximena away for treatment. Once it was just Ghost and her she walked over to the younger man as she touched his arm.
He flinched as he stared to the short woman. His eyes glazed as he wanted to cry. But he was forcing himself to keep it together.
"Laswell..." He whispered her name as the older woman gave him a soft smile
"You couldn't have known.. none of us did.. well besides her.." she said as she noticed Ghost flinch at the last bit.
"She was right... She's 'ways right ya know.."
"Usually she yes. But we didn't see it.. come on.." she escorted him out as she lead him to Price's office.
The trio sat and spoke. Even Ghost yanked the mask off as it felt constricting in the moment.
His blonde hair was buzzed short. As he processed the findings. His brown eyes bore to his boots as he felt stiff.
Yet his chest was pounding. Feeling his heart spike as he was still flooded with the pain and memories of her face. Of what he did to her.
Price was calm as he tried to pull the man out of it.
"Simon look at me-" he said as he got around his desk. On his knees as he stared to the already broken man.
"We couldn't have known..."
"But she did John." He said as he didn't look up. Besides he shut his eyes. Feeling uneased
"The person that gave us these details is being detained. They won't be out till we know why they picked her." Kate said as she stared at the two men
John sighs as he pat Simon on his knees
"Look at me."
Simon blinked a bit as he finally met eye to eye to his captain. His friend.
"She'll be fine.. have a speedy recovery. She's a tough girl- she's gone through a lot worse physically..."
"But we hurt her John. We. Her team. Her family. We broke her 'rust, we broke her. I BROKE HER." He roared the last bit as he didn't realize the hot tears drip down his cheeks.
But Price did. And Laswell. The pair felt sympathy in the moment. They didn't wanna ignore the mental damage this could cause
"Of course we did.. physically and mentally.. that was us. Mentally she might take longer. She'll need longer Simon. But we'll be here with you both every damn step of the way if we must. Because you two are family.." John said firm but clear. Making his and Laswells, along with the Task Force intentions clear.
They'll be there every step of the way.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
When Ximena woke up. Her curls were pulled into braids. Tucked over her chest.
Her eyes stung a bit. Realizing she was out for a while then -
Glancing around she was alone. It was also dark outside. Middle of the night more likely. Her hands squeezed a bit as she was checking her body.
Hands still moving. Her legs felt like sandbags, more likely from the pain medication they had to give her. Her feet sore even as she knew the needles she had in them for a few hours did some damage-
The room door open as a nurse came in. She blinked a bit as she spoke up.
"Mrs Riley... I'll inform the doctor you're awake. We have a bit to discuss with you ma'am..." She said as she slipped out a bit surprised the woman was up so early
Ximena groaned a bit as she laid there. Her body aching as she finally felt the pain her body had to endure.
She had cuts in so many places. She knew she looked like a tiger now, the bruises would go away slowly. Her nails would come back eventually- her eyes soften as she sighs. Remembering that they more likely seen her bare thigh at some point. The small carving she had on her thigh from Simon-
Where was Simon? Her kids? A bit of panic filled her chest as she tried to sit up. A groan left her dry lips as she whined. Forcing herself up from the stiff mattress. Her eyes hazed a bit as she heard the doctor gasp as they tried to get her back down. She waved her hands around as she didn't wanna lay anymore. She has sores all over her body from being in that stupid chair for three months-
Three months...
And her babies had to be three months old now. Her family-
Her eyes snapped open a bit later. Light beaming in, looking around she didn't realize she blacked out last night. A huff as she got up again. Sitting in the bed, but her eyes shifted to the sight besides her. Seeing Ghost in the chair. His brown eyes piercing into her as they finally made eye contact.
"Sim-"
"Please don't talk..." Ghost leaned forward as he was pondering how to speak. How to try and fix his mistakes. He didn't know if she'll forgive him or the team
"I'm.. not mad." She said as she got a chance before he spilled his guts. She knew what their job detailed. She knew that at any given moment it all could be swept away from them. Like the rug tugged out from underneath them. And when she was dragged into the interrogation room, it just made sense. Sadly she knew since Soap had been injured, the team didn't trust just anyone. And she was just someone that helped from time to time. Even if they've all broke bread together in her home.
Ghost stared at her for a second as he took in her words. He felt his mind spiral as he pressed his face into his palms. Leaning forward into the bed as he stared through the mask holes
"But we.. Ximena we did so much to you. Three months." He said as he felt his breathing quicken and panic rise
"But I get it.... We just.. Simon we could of lost Johnny. Anything or anyone can betray us.. and I get at the time you all believed I did something..." She said as she leaned forward. A groan left her lips as she felt the stitches on her stomach ache from the pressure
"I'm not mad... I'm not mad at any of you..." She repeated the words as she sighs. Bringing her hands over his as she knew he was close to a panic attack.
"I'm right here... Hey I'm right here. Simon miede.. look at me.." she whispered to him as he finally. Finally lifted his head up a tad, looking up to his wife. And she broke in that moment.
"I 'hought I lost ya... I 'hought I wasted years.. I believed you betrayed us. Our family. Our promise..." His voice shakes, the hot tears streaming down. Soaking his mask as he pressed his face into her palms. Taking in her warm dainty hands.
"I'm sorry mamas... 'm so sorry.. I should of believed ya...I should of known you wouldn't..." He said as the pain raked over him. His shoulders slumped as he felt the weight slowly fading off his back.
Her eyes creased as she leaned in. Pressing a soft kiss to his forehead as she softly shook in his touch.
"I would never .. and I mean it, would never hurt you. Or this team.. we're a family.. we're all we have left." She whispered as she softly hums. Her eyes flicker to his. Trying to range his emotional state and well being.
"How are you?" She asked as she waited for him to response.
His eyes soften as he peer into hers. Softly his brain swirled with so many thoughts. Their family had to endure these past months. Their new born twins, their elder children. How her family was left out of the situation. How the team had to handle and deal with the consequences now.
He ran a hand over his mask as he sighs.
"Not well... 'he kids miss ya. 'm not gonna lie, I missed you. I don't know it's been a storm without mamas 'm not gonna lie... I lost myself a bit..." He whispered as if it was a sin. A sinister act that he had done, and knowing he was here now. Hand in hand with hers as he gave her scar hands a rub.
" 'M sorry love..." He whispered as he pressed a kiss through his mask. Softly giving her a few as he wanted to make up for his sins towards her.
She softly watched him, her brown eyes soften. A small flicker of light in them as she listened to his words.
"I'm probably crazy... I know most would be outraged or upset. Probably never talk to you lot every again...But don't blame ya... I can't, if something similar happened I would of done the same. More likely would have to either way..."
Her voice was soft as she looked down, she tapped her foot as she felt an odd normalcy
"Did they say when I can go home?"
"Mmm no.. John wanted speak to ya..." He said looking at her. He never let her hand go, not wishing to make another mistake again.
"Ok... That's fine then... I hope soon. I wanna see the kids..." She softly smiled to him as she beamed with joy. A soft light.
Ghost felt like his wife was an actual angel, and him the sinner in church that didn't deserve the attention.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
When she returned home. The kids surrounded her.
Her four tots were thrilled mommy was home. But she did look different.
Her leg had a wrap around it, on her thighs. Her curls were a bit shorter, mid back now no longer the hip length she worked for.
Her scar hands linger as she rubbed them over her sweet children's heads. Her body aches even as her eldest surrounded the thirty something woman.
Simon sighs as he swayed his kids off
" 'Lright tots, let mum breath. Go sit, 'M gonna help mum over."
The kids sigh and agree as they waddle into the living.
Ximena gripped his hand as he eased her into the house.
He knew she came back differently. Mentally and physically, she sighs a bit as they settled on the couch. The kids and her snuggles up as she softly felt peace creep inside her.
Simon sighs a bit as he was content with her finally being home. Feeling their home be full again, the light that was missing was brought back in.
And he knew that, along with his kids. He noticed the infants in their playpen as they were kicking and giggling. The little girls were excited as they heard their mums voice.
He went over and picked up the three months old twins. Bringing them over as he tucked them into his wife's arms.
"They missed you too..." He whispered as he knealt besides them. He glanced to his wife as he thought of her
She was his stars, the moon, and the sun all in one being. He sighs as he rest his head against her thigh.
The family felt complete now.
But sadly who knew how long it would take for them to heal. Or how this would effect the family structure they created.
Ximena knew one thing for sure. She missed three months of her children's lives.
Especially the twins she gave birth to. But only time could tell.
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Months would pass since. And the family wasn't the same. Ximena softly spiral. Even had to go therapy since she was released.
She noticed she didn't have a bond with her twins. The girls seeking their father more often.
She felt terrible, like she was failing in life since she was released. Her curls framed her face as she sat on her bed. Softly sobbing as she didn't feel like herself anymore.
On the other side of the bedroom door. Simon leaned on it. Knowing it was his and his men's fault. They destroyed a very able woman. One that was once feared by many.
And turned her into a crumble of a woman. Now a shell of who she once was
And he knew. He softly created a monster of a woman. But not one to fear. One that feared others.
He saw the way she stared at him. Or the lads when they came over.
Soap was the only one she was close to now. Since he was injured during the time. He wasn't given the okay till she was released.
Both bonding over their trauma. Sadly for different reasons.
Simon slid down the door as he prayed
Prayed this wasn't the end of his beloved marriage. Along with his precious wife he had devoted all his time to. He prayed to whoever would listen.
He didn't want it to end like this-
Nor did she.
Both truly distraught over the relationship they had once. Where laughter was all the house was once filled with. Love and smiles was painted on the walls of the built home.
This home was created from scratch. Their relationship was crafted from time together. So much time together.
And tots that filled its halls. Because they had an undying love for the other. An undying devotion to each other.
But the strain on each other began.
Arguments were a bit frequent. Soft fights about the children and them going out on dates. And him being gone often for deployment.
It started to take a small toll. But they seemed normal on the outside.
But as the sobs filled their home. Thankfully no kids home. Just them in a broken house. A broken relationship. A broken home.
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narcissarina · 7 days
Text
His Serenade˚⊱🪷⊰˚
Tw: mermaid breeding, threat, idk if leon keeping reader for himself count as kidnapping but idk, excuse my mermaid thingy explanation:3
Pirate!Leon × Mermaid!Reader
Word count: 2,569
(I used his romantic outfit since I couldn't finy anymore pirate-y but it suits this outfit for a pirate too!:])
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“Captain!” The pirate member called, knocking to his office door as the one whom they call Captain stood and open the door, he cock a brow as they spoke: “we captured something big, will definitely be rich with gold!” they exclaimed and ran off to the net.
The Captain sigh, stepping out from his office as the sea breeze hit his face—the blonde captain turn his head to his crew and see what’s the fuss is all about, “what do we have here, fellas?” He asked. The heel of his boot clicking as he steps down the stairs and look over the net.
“Captain Leon.”
Leon Kennedy, their captain. Even though he did some good things in his pirate life but no one knew that he’s involved in the black market where he sells valuable ‘things’ he sees in the sea, you’d be lucky if he doesn’t want to share you with anyone else.
“I swear I did no harm!” voice squeak out, you were trapped in the net they set—it was only for luring other living things in the sea, but you; you are a mermaid, the most valuable thing and could cost up to millions and make them rich.
You were holding shiny things, silver spoon, gold plate, pearl necklaces and other things that catches your eye. As they say, mermaids like you have a knack for shiny and pretty things. Just like how when the captain they have called came to see the most precious thing they’ve caught came to see what’s happening. Your eyes shine like you have caught something more pretty and shiny, more than the accessories you have in your arms.
He has a pretty face, his eyes glows like the sea. You were mesmerized by his look as you felt breathless for a second.
His voice break your trail of thoughts as he snicker at the sight, “well, well. Didn’t think we’d get a fine maiden in a tight situation.” You hear most of his crew chuckle, probably a bad joke but you smiled at the man awkwardly and try you way of escape.
“W-Will you perhaps let me go?” you plead, the man name Leon, kneels in front of your vulnerable form, he saw your fin flinch as you curled your lower body and feel yourself shrinking under his cold gaze. He spoke, “what will benefit me and my crew once we let you go?” he scoff.
Racking your brains out, trying to find something to make them let you go. And as if on cue, a light bulb lights up in your mermaid brain, “I could find you lost relics and treasures deep within the ocean water.” You beam, Leon swears that your smile is part of the radiation of the sun. It was bright and he thought he had gone blind.
But his interest was piqued, he listens in and pulls the net up to your head to have it not block your face. “and, what kind of treasures are we talking about here, sweetheart?” he chuckles, snatching one of your shiny accessories from you and took a closer look of it.
“Pretty thing like you likes pretty and shiny little things huh.” He remarks, giving it back to you as you yelp and mutter a hush, “thank you.” His eyes still bore into yours, waiting for you to answer his question.
You start to stammer but eventually found your words, “I remember I saw a chest lying deep beneath the sand, the lock looks rusty and it could break easily when forced open.” You mutter, eyes glistening to let him know that you’re telling the truth, “you don’t know, probably a hundred or other things could be worth selling.” You try to tempt them to give in.
Leon turn his head and see his crew mumbling, piqued and tempted by the offer. “Are you true to your words? If not, we might do something worse.” You squeak at his threat and quickly nod, “I swear.” You swore, blinking your pretty lashes at the man—pleading to be let go.
The captain snap his fingers to his men and have you untangled and free from the net, “I’ll be giving you twenty-four hours to get us that so-called treasure, if not. We’ll have you sold to the black market.” Leon threatens, he picks you up and put you on the edge of the ship.
“See ya.”
He drops you off like you were nothing, back at the ocean as the things you collected were now forgotten—you got a new objective to finish, you don’t want to lose your fins and scales now, do you?
But first, you need to get home and show your presence to your father and sisters. They must’ve been worried sick that they couldn’t find you anywhere, “dear heavens! Where have you been?” mother asked, brushing a few strands of hair away from your face and angle your head to see any bruises or wound if you might’ve potentially hurt yourself.
You went to your sisters and father to let them know you’re safe and unharmed, “I told you not to go far from home.” You father sigh, stroking your hair as his eyes speaks with worry “I’m fine,” you mumbled as you assured, “are you sure?”
“Yes.”
He nodded and left, back to his throne—you guess. After assuring everyone and blessing them with your presence, you get back to work and ask some sea friends to help you lift the heavy chest. You know you still remember the path on the way there. It was a bit dark, but the way that the gold shines makes it easier for you to spot and tell your friends to take to the surface.
The ocean was wide as it sends waves, you turn to spot his ship and swim over there. “Knock, knock!” you yelled, knocking on the wood of the ship since it was stop to a halt, “c’mere.” You gesture to the dolphins as they help you lift the heavy treasure chest, “just as I promise!”
Leon look over and smiled at the sight, “lift her up.” You heard him yelled, little did you know—you swim right to their net. Your sea friends panicked and left you with the treasure, you can’t blame them as they don’t want to be harmed.
You let out a yelp, flopping over in the net as the treasure was lift with you. “You have one strong net, captain.” You praised, swaying your fin as the net was put down in the ship, he smiled and mutter to his crew and lift the chest to his office. He’s the one handling golds.
“so uh…” you start, “I did my part, kept my word and brought it back to you and it hasn’t been twenty-four hours yet…” you mumble, fidgeting your finger and your fin flops to the side of the net. The crew looked at each other funny but didn’t utter one word.
Silence was all the answer they could give you.
You look over the blue water of the ocean as the waves crashes, lost in your thoughts as you felt hands around your body—lifting you up like a bride, you shudder at his touch as you snap your eyes to him. It’s Leon, and he was walking towards to the door of his office.
“No,” he says firmly with a grin, his hold to your tail tightens, “I’ll be keeping you as my trophy.”
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Living in his ship was not that bad, you thought. He put you inside his office, build a tub for you to swim in even though it’ll be cramped—his office is wide and a little too spacious for him so he didn’t object about constructing a tub inside his office for you to swim in.
Plus, it’ll be good for your scales. Don’t want the beauty to fade away because of the surface air.
Truth is, if you stay in the surface too long—the air will dry you up and make you look like a dehydrated fish and Leon doesn’t like that thought, he had a book in stored that came in pretty handy.
A book about the legends of Merfolk.
It has saved his ass and saved yours, building a tub inside was a dumb idea—thought by the crew but Leon doesn’t give two shits about it. As long as he could keep you to himself, that is all that matters to him, keeping you as his little valuable trophy mermaid.
You didn’t mind that the pretty man took you in though, his eyes shines like the blue sky and sea—how could you also say no to the face he has?
Father, Mother and your sisters would kill you if they knew that you left them for this ‘evil’ pirate that they so-called evil pirates that hunt their beings down so they could make profit or food.
Would it be twisted that you had to agree on that but had to object about the idea of Leon being an evil pirate?
The blonde Captain gives you whatever shiny pieces of trash that you desires and you store them at the bottom of your tub that you now call your second home.
In return, you give him your scales that’s been falling off. Shredding is what they say call it as you grew a new shiny one. Leon was intrigued and once wore it as a necklace to show his appreciation for the gift. It was a beautiful color and a vibrant fade on it. You were one beautiful mermaid, after all.
It once shocked Leon that most people wanted to buy his “jewelry” as they say it captivated their eyes and would pay a ridiculous amount of gold, he didn’t refuse the offer though and experimented what they’ll do with it. One merchant asked a stock or a jar of those scales.
Only fuels Leon’s idea.
You only lie low in your tub and flick your fin out of boredom and blew bubbles on the water, your eyes darted to the male who’s sitting in his chair—reading a book about Merfolks. Your hand scratches at the almost end of your fin as one scale fell off, “Leon!” you called, he never grew tired of that voice that sounds like melodies of a song.
“yes?” he put down his book and focus on you as you held your scale and stretch your hand to give it to him, “another one fell off..!” you beam. He reach out and took it in his hand, placed it in the jar with your other scales; he has been collecting them ever since, “I’m glad I can help you with profits.” You mumble, squishing your cheek to the wooden floor as you bow your head down.
He nodded and got down with you, soaking his clothes as he pulls you into his arms. His hand on the lower back of your waist, his face buried on the crook of your neck. “Just want you to know, you don’t have to force yourself to shred.” He mumbles, kissing your neck as you shudder at his affection.
It feels nice to be held in his arms once in a while, making you to take your mind off with your worries about your family in the ocean. You feel warm.
But this is bad, mermaid goes in heat every after three months and you’ve been craving—desperately wanting to breed, that is the reason why you have your own room and lock yourself in there until it calms down, or you calm yourself down.
You hear him groan with content, your back pressing against him real close. His hand travels down to your tail and feel every each of your pretty gradient scale, “so pretty for me.” You hear him mumble and bury himself to the crook of your neck, heat rising from your cheeks and ears—squirming to his touches.
“You know, I read something interesting…” he mumbles, kissing your skin and resting his chin on to your shoulder. Shifting his position, he got to his knee and push your body to the edge—bending you over, your fin tap his leg lightly as your body grew excited.
“I read that mermaid goes into heat after every three months.”
His statement made you embarrassed, you look away to avoid his gaze—he chuckle as he trail down to your hip and your tail, finding if there was an entrance to pry open. “Is that true, princess?” he asked, his fingers massaging where your rear is. Leon felt something off and move the scales aside that’s been covering something.
You felt his fingers enter you, gasping and tensing up at the stretch.
Leon chuckled and leaned back to look, “found it, I assume.” He pulls and plunge in slowly, making you mewl as your face was planted onto the floorboards and your lower body still in water. He could feel your gummy walls pulse around him, “you're so wet.” He coos and speed the pace of his fingers, you gasp—desperate for air as you whine at the stretch.
“You’re too tight for me, let me help you hm?” Leon coos, while he busy his fingers stretching and curling inside of you—he’s also taking some of your scales that’s been falling and tossing it to the side.
He found your sweet spot.
“oh my—!” you screamed, eyes widen as tears drops, feeling your orgasm when he pressed hard on to your sweet spot. “Can’t have you too loud, you’re gonna distract the guys.” You nodded at his words, twitching as he pulled out—belt buckling and zippers unzip, he positioned himself and slammed himself at ease with one thrust.
You screamed, your gummy walls clenching around him as he groans at the tightness, “fuck, that’s some mermaid pussy.” He hisses, pulling and plunging in—building his pace as he ravages you. Your moans loud and tears couldn’t stop from falling.
“please, I—” you cried, you sing so beautifully as the pirate fucks you to oblivion, “damn, you sing so fucking pretty for me.” His thrust becoming harsh and hard, the familiar warm sensation approaching. Eyes rolling back, Leon grip on to your hips, his fingers digging to your flesh as he chases his high.
Not long until he finally painted your insides white, “fuck!” he curses under his breath, fucking his orgasm inside and being sure to not spill a drop. He pulled out and see the masterpiece he created, your hole twitches as his seeds ooze out from you.
To his surprise, your scales move to finally cover up your used pussy. He laughs at the knowledge he just gained and help himself up, don’t worry—he didn’t forget you and your marvelous singing ability, your ocean friends and family probably heard you.
He stayed inside the tub with you, you snuggling close to him—clinging as if your life depends on it—he drew circles around your abdomen and pepper kisses to your temple.
“I wonder if it’s possible to have a mermaid pregnant with my child.”
“If it is, I want to carry yours and have a family together.”
He smiled and finally lets your rest.
Both of you slept on the tub, being in each others warm and embrace.
How lovely.
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◇ asks are open for request!
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help-itrappedmyself · 2 months
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Dead On Main AU Part 4
Masterpost
Jason listens carefully to Jazz’s half of the conversation, but Jazz seems to be mostly listening. Jazz says he’s taking him to Nasty for dinner, which Jason can’t say he’s excited about. He doesn’t know if Nasty is supposed to be describing the food or the place. Either way it is not comforting that whatever Nasty is, it is somehow a better source of food than his soulmate’s house. 
Eventually Jazz hands the phone back to him. 
“Everything good?” Jason asks.
“Yeah, your dad, Dick, and Tim are going to be driving me over, but It’s a long drive so Jazz will get you dinner and then you can do whatever. I have a gaming system, and you’re welcome to use my bed. If you need help finding clothes, or really with anything, then Jazz will help you.”
“Got it.” Long drive with B, Dick, and Tim. They’re all going to interrogate him immediately. While he’s trapped in a box with them for hours. “Hey, my family is really nosy and they will pry and they have no emotional cues so they will not know when to stop. Just… Tell them if they’re bothering you, and you don’t have to answer anything you don’t want to.” Jason doesn’t know who will be worse in this scenario. Bruce is going to interrogate him for literally everything, Dick is probably going to be all relationships and feelings, Tim is a nice in-between which just means he’ll probably support any and all interrogating. 
“Same goes for you. Jazz is studying to be a psychologist, and my entire family forgets that we’re not all test subjects for whatever they’re working on. Mom and Dad with their gadgets, and Jazz with her… studying and analyzing you. There are no boundaries.” 
“Oh, I’m familiar with that concept.” Jason chuckled.
“Well, given the circumstances I’d say if we can survive each other’s families that’s probably a pretty good sign.”
Kid is probably right. Fate and everything. 
Jazz goes out to clear a path to the door, making sure there are no weapons to run into. When she gets back she leads Jason out, but when they get to the ground floor Jason is grabbed. 
“Happy Birthday Dann-o!” The person holding him is tall. Very tall compared to Danny, and taller than Jason in his regular body. He has black hair and it looks like he's wearing a jumpsuit. After squeezing to the point where Jason couldn't breath for a second Jazz gets the man to put him down. 
“Dad, this isn't Danny right now.” 
“What do you mean princess, of course it is!” 
A woman comes around the corner to stand next to the man, she is also in a jumpsuit but she has Jazz’s red hair.
“Guys, it's his sixteenth birthday.” So Danny's parents remember his birthday but not how old he is? Could be that they’ve forgotten the significance of a person’s sixteenth birthday, but given it should be an important day in a child’s life, they should have remembered.
“We know it's his birthday dear.” The woman comes over to give Jason a hug as well, but this one is less painful. And she's tall too, Jason is not used to feeling this short anymore.
“Mom, Dad, this is Jason. Danny’s soulmate.” The both of them just blink for a second. Jason, this is Drs. Jack and Maddie Fenton, Danny’s parents.”
“Nice to meet you both.” Jason gets out.
“Well, this is wonderful!” Dr. Fenton-Maddie says. “Figures Danny would be the younger one. Are you going to be here for dinner?”
Jason glances over at Jazz.
“No, you told us that you would be busy, so we already made plans.” Jazz sidesteps the invitation. Jason couldn’t tell if that was true or a lie to get him out of the situation. Would they tell their son that they were too busy to have dinner with him on his birthday? He wants to think the answer is no. “Shame Danny will be missing out, but we’ll save his presents for him.”
“Alright, well you kids have fun then!” Maddie and Jack left as quickly as they came, rambling about something that Jason could not understand.
“They didn’t want to know where Danny is? Who he’s with? Where we’re going? Anything?” Jason turned to Jazz who had a pinched look on her face.
“Neither of us get up to much trouble, they’ve trusted us for a while now.” 
“Trust him to be magically transported who-knows-where?” Jason is almost stupefied by the utter lack of regard for Danny’s well-being. He is insulted on his soulmate’s behalf. “He could be in another country for all they know! They didn’t even ask!”
Jazz nods. “Best not to think about it. Everything is turning out alright anyways. Now come on, let’s get dinner.”
Jason is seething, but doesn’t think it will do much good to argue with her here so he decides to calm down. He startles a little when he realizes how easy it is to calm down in this body. Just decide to, and then move on. None of the lingering churning in his gut or fog in his mind. 
He frowns as he follows Jazz out the door, hoping that Danny’s not having too hard a time in his body.
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misshugs · 1 month
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Is this what you wanted to see? || Colby Brock x Reader
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You thought it was just going to be another funny, intriguing investigation with the guys, but things went south real quick. Whatever was in this hotel, didn't like you.
warnings: gore/blood, cursing, violent paranormal activity, reader getting attacked by ghosts, seeing shit that's not there (aka, being a bit of a medium), angst?
a/n: the story is fictional, therefore, the place/video that I based the story from, is not real.
word count: 2k
[u n e d i t e d]
✮ ⋆ ˚。𖦹 ⋆。°✩
"What's up guys! It's Sam and Colby. Today, we're standing right infront of one of the most haunted hotels in America..." Colby began.
The frame of my body visible to the camera as they continued their intro. I threw a tiny wave when they called out my name to the camera.
At this point I'm so used to all of this that Colby doesn't even need to ask if I'm okay with it anymore, although he still does, which I love about him.
We've been dating for months now and I swear that I'm just falling deeper in love every day. I didn't even notice myself staring lovingly at him throughout their intro to the point they had to shake me out of it.
"You good?" Nate asked, I looked up at him and nodded.
"Yeah, yeah, just zoned out for a little bit, my bad." I smiled at him and he nodded.
"Just making sure."
"You guys ready?" Sam asked, looking at us.
"Yessir!" Nate responded.
"As I'll ever be." I added.
"We'll see you guys inside." Colby said back to the camera and turned it off. He looked back at us and smiled. "So, shall we?"
"We shall." I responded, laughing slightly as I got closer to him and walked inside with them. While they weren't looking, I felt a short kiss on my cheek coming from him, which just made me smile wider.
God, I love him.
✮ ⋆ ˚。𖦹 ⋆。°✩
While we were all walking through a corridor, I looked back and saw an employee with a tray of food. He saw me and I nodded with a smile at him as a kind gesture. He smiled and nodded back. I looked back at the boys, only to slightly look back for a second and then completely looking back in shock.
There was no one there. It would've been impossible for someone to run and hide in that short amount of time.
Was it my imagination or did that really just happen? It seemed too real to be true.
"Co..Colby." I softly said, as my feet were unable to move after the thought of having seen something so real, yet not being there.
"Yeah?" He looked back, so did the other two. "You okay? What happened?" He got closer and looked at my face then back to the corridor, trying to see what I was looking at.
"I... there was someone here. An employee... with... a tray. I looked at him, even greeted him for a second and when I looked back he was... gone."
"No fucking way." Sam said.
"Are you serious?? You're telling me you just saw a full-on person then it disappeared?" Nate asked, shocked.
"I guess, yeah?"
"Oh, this is gonna be a good night." Sam put the camera on my face. "One of us already saw something unexplainable, wish that would've been me." He laughed.
"Next thing we know you begin to levitate brother." Colby laughed back.
I laughed as well, trying to brush away the thought of genuinely seeing a ghost.
All night, I've ended up having this eerie feeling of someone just watching us, but there was no one around. I tried to hide my uneasiness but Colby saw through me right away.
Every time he noticed, he began to flirt with me, making me feel good the best way he knows how. "You know we can just leave if you're too uncomfortable, baby." He kissed my forehead, putting his arms on my shoulders.
"Don't worry about it, I'm good. If I couldn't handle it, I would tell you right away."
"You better." He chuckled and kissed me, making all of my stress go away for a moment.
I can't lie, it did make me feel better, but somehow it just made things worse. I started seeing figures at the corners of my eyes, movements around me where nobody was walking around, even feeling touched a few times around my shoulders, hands and even ass. It felt weird, it made my anxiety grow by the minute, but somehow, it felt safe because of Colby.
And so, we ended the tour of the place and thought about trying to get some activity at around 3 in the morning. Meaning, we had nothing else to do. I was already tired enough, feeling as if the energy in my body has been drained to its core. I believed that it was solely because of the much walking and anxiety that was rising constantly.
Although the others planned on staying awake until the hour came, I told them I will try and get some sleep. And so, they would wake me up when the time comes.
Lying in the bed, I didn't stay up for long until my eyelids were closed and my brain just shut down. Usually, I'm quite the light sleeper, but this time I was knocked out.
Until I felt it.
I felt some hands on my legs. Honestly, I wasn't conscious enough to know if it was in my dreams or in real life. It turns out, it was real. And it wasn't Colby, or anyone else. But I felt it, tight on my leg. I couldn't even think right before I felt a pull and suddenly I was on the floor.
I could feel a sharp pain on my head as it was the first thing that touched the floor. I quickly woke up, shaken up by the sudden act. I whined in pain as the other seemingly stood up from their places and looked at me, possibly concerned, believing I might've just moved and fallen off the bed.
Before they even got closer, I got pulled back. This time, being completely awake, I yelled out, looking back at whatever force was holding my legs, one to see nothing at all.
And it was at that point when I felt genuine fear. I tried my hardest to hold onto the floor or anything really, but to no avail. Tears filling my tired eyes as I tried to focus my vision to the things around me. Next thing I knew I was thrown onto the wall, my back throbbing with pain as I felt a huge headache from the mild concussion I probably had after all of this.
To this point, everyone was frightened. Fear made them almost unable to walk, talk even. I could see them, their scared faces, trying to do something but there was this tension that made them... stop in place. Like this pressure, this force that was throwing me around like a ragdoll. They couldn't help me, it seemed.
At least in my point of view.
Unbeknownst to me, they were actually trying to set themselves free from this invisible pressure. Trying to move, but feeling like they've had a ton of weight on top of them that they couldn't escape from.
As I fell to the floor, I tried to gain back my breathing. Shaking on the floor, I looked up and saw Colby screaming my name while being set free from the pressure, running towards me. I looked at him with hope in my eyes, trying to pull my arm up to hold him, only to feel myself getting pulled again. This time, thrown towards the couch.
Although the direct hit to the couch didn't feel as bad, I had enough force to fall back behind the couch and to the floor. Since I tried to hold myself with the couch, unfortunately, it leaned back on itself and fell on top of me. Just the cherry on top.
I whined in pain, unable to move, stuck underneath the couch with bruises all over my body and the wet feeling of warm liquid on my back and the top of my head, wishing it would've only been sweat.
My vision was blurry.
My senses were all fucked up.
It all happened so quick that I don't think even they would've reacted in time even if they were able to move freely.
With my eyes closed, I could feel the pressure from the couch lift from my chest and a pair of arms holding me tightly.
"Oh my fucking god. Oh shit. Fuck. We need to get the fuck out of here." I heard Colby desperately scream. As I opened my eyes, I could see his teary ones. Holding me onto his arms, his eyes filled with guilt and fear. "Are you okay? Fuck..."
"Hurts..." I was able to whisper out those words, shaking and I feel myself coughing onto my hand. Looking back at the now blood-drenched hand, the pain began to intensify. My vision kept on failing, only able to see blobs of colors here and there.
Colby held me on his arms and pulled me up from the floor, which made me whimper in pain, feeling my back getting even more wet by the moment.
"Shit. Her back is bleeding... Fuck." I could hear Sam's shaky voice as I tried to gain back my breath, trying to calm myself down as I heard the rapidly increasing heartbeat of Colby.
Somehow, it made me feel okay. Being by his side, the rush of everything around almost seemed softer, calmer. I could no longer listen to everything that was going on.
Muffled sounds were the only thing that could pass through.
Yelling.
Moving.
A tight squeeze.
I felt numb. For a moment, at least.
My name.
I heard my name and suddenly, I was conscious again. I blinked a few times and looked up at the desperate Colby. "Please... tell me you're okay... fuck..." His tears probably blurring his eyesight.
A glimpse of strength came back to me and I was able to touch his cheek with my hand. He quickly looked down at me. "I'm fine... I'm fine..."
"Right after we walk out of the room..." Nate pointed out, holding all of their stuff in their hands.
"We need to get the fuck out of here and get her to a hospital." Sam said, walking quickly with the others. I was confused, seemingly forgetting for a brief moment about how I was brutally assaulted by a ghost.
"Hospital? Why are we going to a hos..." As I was talking, I realized why they were hurriedly walking away. I felt the pain all over again. I groaned at the feeling, shaking on Colby's arms.
"You'll be okay, you're going to be fine. Don't move. Deep breaths, baby." Colby tried to calm me down, his shaky breath giving away his anxiety.
✮ ⋆ ˚。𖦹 ⋆。°✩
My back was all bruised up. I had some unknown hand marks on my legs, where I was pulled from. Some scratches tinted my back red when I got into the ER, as well as a few bumps in my head that gave me a red face.
The memories of what happened were blurry, yet so vivid.
And the only thing keeping me conscious was him. I could see it in his face, he felt guilty. Guilty for something that wasn't even his fault.
"Shouldn't have let you go with us... we should've stopped when you began to see so many things... I'm so stupid." He whispered under his breath.
"Hey, hey. Look at me." I said. He reluctantly looked up and into my eyes. I smiled. "It wasn't your fault. Nothing about this could've been predicted, alright? Don't blame yourself." He smiled slightly, only to sigh.
"Yeah, but..." I interrupted him.
"No buts. I'm fine. I'm still here, with you. Right?" I responded, softly while holding his hand. "No need to feel guilty, no need to be sorry. You just have to promise me a good time when I get out of here, yeah? And a good meal." I smiled. "Food here kinda taste like shit." He chuckled, making me smile even more. "That's the face I like to see."
"I love you, so much." He said, holding my hand up to his lips and leaving a soft kiss on them, making my cheeks flutter by the site of his sensitive side.
"I love you too. Now, do that again, but closer to my face."
✮ ⋆ ˚。𖦹 ⋆。°✩
it's been a while since i've written something like this, and honestly i just remembered how fun and angsty it is to write about getting literally beaten up by a ghost lmao
hope you liked it, requests are appreciated!
-nikkõ
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Honey Girl. Chapter Seven.
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chapter one. chapter two. chapter three. chapter four. chapter five. chapter six. chapter eight. series masterlist. the playlist.
Chapter Synopsis - Everything will work out the way it’s supposed to. At least, that’s what you and Bucky keep telling yourselves.
Pairing - Dad'sBestFriend!Bucky Barnes x Female Reader - soulmate au
Warnings - smut. cursing. alcohol consumption.
Word Count - 4.8k
Author's Note - I can only apologise for the delay on this one angels!! january blues, a crazy work schedule, writers block.. they all came to play at the same time. but chapter seven is finally here!! I hope you enjoy it. thank you for the continued love on this - words can’t describe how incredible it is.
as always, if you enjoyed this, please consider reblogging!! reblogs are the only way to circulate my writing, which generates more of it. feel free to send me a comment or an inbox, too!! thanks, my loves!! <3
Masterlist. Inbox.
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“Why aren’t you more surprised?”
Stella simply shrugs, sipping her cappuccino as if she has all the time in the world.
“Babe, with all due respect… I’ve been waiting for you to initiate this conversation for like two months.”
You look at her incredulously, fiddling nervously with a chip in the handle of your coffee cup.
“…Why? How?”
She smiles softly, reaching for your hand across the table.
“You’re miserable.”
You take a deep breath, and then another. After the fifth one, you find the courage to meet her eyes.
“How did you know?”
“Because I know you. You’re a hell of an actress, I’ll give you that.”
“It’s not you-”
“I know. Hey, I know. You don’t have to explain yourself.”
“I do.”
She waits for you, patient as ever. You’d be lying if you said the guilt wasn’t eating you up, slowly but surely from the inside out. You feel like you’ve let her down, disappointing the one person who’s given you your dream.
You realise, suddenly, that you haven't told anyone the full truth about everything. Not your Mom, not your Dad, not Lacie. Your Tethering, Bucky, the move to California - all your feelings and emotions over the past how ever many months have been bottled up and stowed away on a shelf, never to be opened. But you have the urge, now, to unscrew the cap and pour it out across the table, regardless of the mess.
So, you do.
"It's not you. You've given me everything I could have ever wanted, Stel, and I couldn't be more grateful. You know that, right?"
She nods, squeezing your hand.
"It's just been hard... emotionally. So, I, the thing is, I just..."
You inhale. You hold it for five seconds. You exhale.
"I'm Tethered. I have a soulmate, and he lives back home. We found out literally right before you called me and asked about the business. I couldn't turn you down, I knew that this was a once in a lifetime opportunity. I couldn't just let it pass me by. I knew we could do this, me and you, together. And I thought I’d be able to cope.”
You inhale. You hold it for five seconds. You exhale.
“Being away from Bucky has been the hardest thing I’ve ever done in my entire life. It’s like… I can’t breathe properly without him. Food isn’t as flavourful, colours aren’t as bright, the sun isn’t as warm. The separation is actually having physical effects that I’m not sure I can handle anymore.”
You inhale. You hold it for five seconds. You exhale.
“I’ve held out for as long as I possibly can. I was hoping that maybe it’d pass, that we’d get used to it and it’d all wear off. But it hasn’t. If anything, it’s worse than ever. The separation is ruining us both.”
You inhale. You hold it for five seconds. You exhale.
“I’m sorry. I know you’re going to tell me not to apologise, but I am. I’m sorry. You’ve given me everything and I’m just… quitting on you. I love this job so much, Stella. I can’t even find the words to describe how much. But I think either me or Bucky will break soon. And I have to prevent that from happening.”
You inhale.
Stella looks at you with so much compassion, you fight the urge to burst into tears.
You exhale.
“Listen to me, okay? You are one of the best damn bakers I have ever met in my life. No one in culinary school even came close to you. I always knew that I wanted you on my team, by my side, in my corner - in the kitchen, and everywhere else. But-"
You chew your bottom lip, wincing when you taste copper.
“We don’t have to be in each other’s pockets. We can be business partners and not see each other everyday. These are the joys of modern technology, babe. We can call, text, video chat, and then schedule in person meetings when we can. If anyone can make a cross country partnership work, it’s us. I mean, come on.”
The weight lifts from your shoulders, slowly but surely. A glowing, molten warmth trickles through your veins, hopeful and real and alive.
“And this,” she picks up your business plan, all printed and pretty. “This is air fucking tight. I’m not saying you picked the wrong career, but… business could definitely be your Plan B.”
You laugh, ignoring the way your voice cracks slightly, still choked with emotion.
“Babe, I was going to franchise the business eventually anyway. Sure, this is a little earlier than I first thought, but why the hell not? We’re successful, we’ve done so well… what’s stopping us? We know we can do this. And I trust you. So much.”
“Thank you,” you whisper, easing your death grip on her hand ever so slightly. “I thought I was gonna ruin everything.”
“You haven’t ruined anything, I promise you. This is a good thing.”
She thinks for a moment, lost in her own thoughts. Suddenly, she grins at you, nosy and mischievous.
“So a soulmate, huh?”
You groan, burying your face in your hands - but you can’t fight the smile that spreads across your cheeks.
“Yeah. It’s been… complicated.”
“He’s that super hot guy that came to see you, right? The one that looks like he could be a model?”
Laughing, you nod, making mental note to relay this to Bucky on the phone later.
“How did it happen? Was it like, a stranger on the street moment?”
“Nope,” you recall fondly. “We knew each other already. He’s my Dad’s best friend.”
Her jaw drops open, eyes flickering across your face.
“Holy shit.”
“Yeah.”
“Holy shit, babe.”
“Yeah.”
“That’s amazing. Shit, no wonder you’ve been under so much stress. What did your Dad say?”
“He… doesn’t know.”
“What?”
“We need to tell him, I know we do, but it’s just so complicated. I’m worried that it’ll change everything, and not for the better.”
It’s been eating away at you, lately. The fact that your parents don’t know originally made perfect sense, but now? It’s been almost a year. You’ve never kept anything from them for that long. Now, you’re worried that you’ll never be able to undo the damage of lying and keeping secrets from the two people you always promised never to do that to.
"Look, I know I'm not exactly qualified to give out soulmate advice, but... you can't change this. It's literally been written in the stars. Your parents will understand, okay? But the longer you wait to tell them, the worse it'll be."
“Yeah. You’re right. It’s just - it’s tough. It’s gonna change everything, forever.”
“But isn’t that the beauty of it? It’s going to change everything, forever.”
You jump out of your seat and wrap your arms around Stella, holding onto her as tightly as you can. She hugs you back fiercely, speaking a thousand words without saying anything at all.
“Proud of you,” she murmurs into your hair.
“For what?” you laugh.
“Putting yourself first. Your health, your mental wellbeing, all of it. I know it wasn’t easy.”
“Love you,” you whisper, fighting back tears of relief.
“Love you too, my baker extraordinaire.”
You sit back down and take a breath, deep and full. Relaxing into your chair, you allow yourself to finally think about the next steps.
“So, I was thinking about going home and scouting out locations. I have that list of places that you read over in the business plan, but I thought of a couple more last night a few miles further out. I’ve pre prepped a few days worth of our best sellers, so you should be good without me.”
“Of course, babe. I’ve circled a couple where I really liked the look of the listings you’ve printed, and written a couple of notes for you to look over - just logistical stuff. Go back home, see your family and your soulmate,” she smirks, raising her eyebrows suggestively, “and just relax. God knows the stress lately has taken a couple years off your life. Please, get those years back on the beach or with your man or something.”
You laugh, shaking your head. She’s right, though. The stress has been resting stagnant in your muscles, tight and wound, making everything harder. You can’t wait to sit on the sand in Bucky’s arms and feel the tension melt from your body.
“You’re the best, Stella. You know that right?”
“So I’ve been told. Many, many times.”
Hours later, Bucky watches you on video call, laptop propped up on the dresser as you pack your bags excitedly. He hasn’t stopped smiling since he picked up, anticipation of the future lighting up his bones.
✵  ✵    ·  ✵    *  · ✵
You show up at your parents house without warning.
You thought about calling first, but decided it’d be much more fun to surprise them. It’s a Friday evening, and you know they’ll both be sat out on the back deck, drinking wine and recapping their weeks. It’s getting warmer on the East Coast, the sounds of spring and summer slowly filtering through.
Your Mom throws open the door, her face lighting up with glee.
“Babygirl!”
She throws her arms around you, rocking you back and forth so forcefully you’re worried you might fall over.
“My baby,” she exclaims, beaming grin almost blinding you. “What the hell are you doing here?”
“It’s kind of a long story. I’ll tell you all about it.”
She grabs your face in her hands, forcing you to look her in the eyes.
“Are you okay?”
You nod, smiling as the setting sun warms your back.
“Yeah, Mama. I am.”
She believes you. For the first time in a long time, you believe you too.
“Come on. Your Dad is gonna be so excited to see you.”
You leave your bags in the car, prioritising seeing the man who’s currently shaking his hips to the soft salsa music that’s playing.
“Nice moves, Casanova.”
He whips his head around, laughing when he sees you stood against the doorframe watching.
“You like em? I need a partner, babygirl! Come on!”
He grabs your hands, pulling you further into the yard so you have more space. You take up a terrible ballroom dance posture with him, cackling as he dips you backwards and almost drops you.
“Don’t kill my baby, please Jack!” your Mom calls from the kitchen window.
She returns with a glass of pink wine in her hand, gesturing for you to come and get it. Your Dad spins you over to her, steadying your shoulders when you trip over his shoes.
“It’s like The Universe knew you were coming to us tonight, darling. We opened the strawberry wine and everything.”
“My favourite.”
You get comfy on the loveseat, sitting across from your parents who are pressed together on the outdoor sofa. The wine is sweet and sugary and exactly what you needed.
“So, what are you doing here, kiddo?”
“It’s a little… complicated. But the good kind of complicated, I think.”
You start at the beginning. Well, almost. You leave out the part about finding Bucky, waiting for him to be with you when you tell that part of the story. You agreed that you’d talk to your parents about your relationship together, and you’re not about to break that promise. You do, however, explain everything else to them.
They listen carefully, nodding and smiling to let you know they’re still with you. When you talk about the difficulties you’ve faced, they wear matching frowns as your Mom fights back tears. Eventually, you sit in silence, waiting for their reaction.
“I wish you’d said something sooner.”
“I know. I’m sorry. I just… I thought I could do it on my own.”
“Honey, you never have to go through anything alone. That’s what we’re here for - we’re like, your built in therapists. Both me and your Dad would have happily listened if you’d called us, no matter the time or place.”
“Thank you. Both of you.”
“So this means you’re moving home?”
You nod, trying to contain the excitement bubbling up inside of you.
“Well it’s a good job we didn’t end up renting your apartment, huh?”
“You didn’t?”
“We thought about it, but it didn’t feel right. And we wanted to see you settle down in California first, just in case. I don’t either of us were ready to see someone else in that place. It’s yours.”
“You big softie,” you tease, nudging your Dad with your foot. He grabs it and squeezes, laughing when you squirm out of his grip.
“Well this is a cause for celebration, isn’t it?”
When you were younger, you used to get embarrassed that your Mom would throw parties for everything. Now, it’s one of your favourite things about her. She’s taught you to embrace the joy of the little things in life.
“What are you thinking, Mama?”
“Tomorrow night, a few friends. I’ll make a big paella, we can drink wine, play cards… what do you say?”
“Sounds perfect.”
And it does. The ease of being back home has calmed you down, untied the knots in your shoulders. You feel warmed by love, from the inside out.
You leave your parent’s house, promising to make a dessert of some kind for tomorrow. As you drive away, you suddenly realise that you’re headed in the wrong direction. You’re not going home. You’re going to the person that feels like home.
Bucky.
✵  ✵    ·  ✵    *  · ✵
He’s waiting for you on his front porch when you pull up.
“Hi, honey baby.”
“Hi, handsome.”
You launch yourself into his arms, savouring the warmth rolling off of him in waves. He smells like fresh linen and sea salt and all your future plans.
“You felt me coming, didn’t you?”
“From a mile off.”
He’s grinning, beaming in all directions.
“Good job it wasn’t a surprise visit, huh?”
“There’s no such thing anymore.”
“Good.”
He grabs your face in his work rough hands, gazing at you as if you’re the sun. You realise, suddenly, that you are. You are the one thing that his world revolves around. And he is yours. Forever.
“You gonna kiss me, Buck, or just stare at me, hmm?”
He chuckles before leaning in to press his lips to yours. You sigh in contentment and pull him closer by his shirt, tilting your head back to let him slip his tongue into your mouth. He tastes like scotch and spearmint, a perfect picture of his evening.
“Have you been drinking alone, cowboy?”
“Needed some liquid courage. Knew you’d come by.”
“I make you nervous, huh?”
The filthy smirk written across your face sends electricity crackling across his skin, the hairs on his arms standing up.
“Thought you’d have figured that out by now.”
“You’re really blowing up my ego, you know. I make the Bucky Barnes nervous. Who’d have thought?”
He shuts you up by kissing you again, snaking his hands around your back to plaster your bodies together. You tangle your fingers in his hair, tugging on it slightly.
“You’re letting your hair grow.”
“You like it long.”
You stop for a moment, watching his face carefully.
“Yeah. I do. How’d you know?”
“You pull it more when it’s long. Can feel how much you like it.”
“You’re a menace,” you laugh. “How about you take me inside, and I’ll show you just how much I like it? Unless you wanna give your neighbours front row seats…”
He chuckles and shakes his head before throwing you over his shoulder, laughing harder when you start shrieking. He carries you over the threshold, a beautiful prediction of years to come.
✵  ✵    ·  ✵    *  · ✵
You and Bucky spend the evening in his kitchen with the windows open, watching the setting sun. The gentle ocean breeze flows through the room, tussling Bucky’s chocolate brown hair and glinting off the ice in his rocks glass.
“You want me to come with you tomorrow, when you scout locations? I’ll be your chauffeur, if you like.”
“What about work?”
“I’m the boss, baby.”
“So you keep reminding me.”
He kicks you lightly under the table, laughing when you stick your tongue out at him.
“Yeah, Buck. I’d love it if you came with. You can use your contractor knowledge and help me out.”
“It’s a date. You want me to bring my clipboard? Tape measure? Mechanical pencil?”
“You gonna bring your talking machinery too, Bob The Builder?”
Bucky stands from his chair and pulls yours out, wrapping his arms around your waist and picking you up. He spins you around before putting you down and dragging you up the stairs, kicking his bedroom door open.
He throws you onto the bed unceremoniously, chuckling when you almost bounce off. You toss your shirt at his face, before shucking off your jeans and doing the same thing. He catches them with ease, winking at you before undressing himself.
He crawls up your body, kissing any skin he can find as he goes. He starts at your ankle, before moving to your knee, your thigh, your hip, your stomach, your chest, your neck, and eventually your lips. You’re almost shaking, alive with the anticipation of having every inch of Bucky pressed against you.
“Tell me what you want, baby,” he rasps into your ear. “I’ll give it to you. Anything.”
“Just want you.”
“Need to get you ready first,” he murmurs, fingers trailing between your legs. His breath hitches when he feels how wet you are.
“Oh honey,” he groans. “You been like this all night? Hmm?”
“Since I first saw you waiting for me.”
He groans again, resting his head in the crook of your neck.
“Please, Buck. Just wanna feel you.”
Who is he to deny you when you ask so damn pretty?
“You’re killing me,” he mutters against your skin.
Bucky slides into you with one smooth thrust, biting down on your shoulder as he does it. You shudder at the feeling, and at the thought of having the imprint of his teeth on you later.
You both gasp, wrapping your arms around his neck to pull him in to you. You loop your legs around his waist, heels digging into his ass to press him even closer.
“Fuck me,” you choke out. “Need it, Buck.”
“My needy girl,” he chuckles lowly. “Gonna give you everything.”
Bucky retracts his hips before thrusting back into you, deep and full. You whine, and he’s convinced the sound will never be matched. It’s like angel song, rose tinted and heavenly.
He fucks you into the mattress, long, slow thrusts that make you want to cry a little. You’re not sure you’ve ever felt so connected to him - every single part of you touching his, bodies plastered together and souls intertwined.
He presses open mouthed kisses into the crook of your neck, right into your sweet spot. When he feels you getting close, he dances his fingers down your body and circles your clit, languid but precise. Your back arches as you find your release, clawing your nails down his back and locking your ankles around his hips.
“Oh fuck, honey - fuck.”
Bucky finishes with a shudder, sinking his teeth back into your shoulder. His raspy groans hit your ears just right, sweat dripping down onto your dewy skin.
“Love you, baby. Fuck, I love you.”
You’re both panting, trying to catch your breath as you come down from your highs.
“I love you too,” you giggle, pressing kisses to his damp forehead.
He collapses his weight onto you, chuckling when you groan. You push him off so he can lie next to you, strong arm thrown over your stomach as he pulls you in close.
You stay tangled for a while, letting the breeze from the window cool you both down. Bucky traces absentminded patterns across your back, rough fingertips sending goosebumps over your skin.
“I’m excited for tomorrow,” you murmur, keeping the volume low.
“Me too. Feels like a big step for our future, doesn’t it?”
“I just never imagined I’d have… this. You, the job I’ve always dreamed of… it doesn’t feel real. I mean, we’re going to look at places for a second location of my business. Who ever could have predicted I’d say that sentence?”
“Everything works out the way it’s supposed to. I told you that, that night on the beach. Before we knew. Remember?”
“I remember,” you smile, recalling that evening. You’d felt so inexplicably connected to Bucky that day. Little did you know what was to follow.
You fall asleep wrapped up in Bucky’s arms, warm and content.
You’ve never known happiness like it.
✵  ✵    ·  ✵    *  · ✵
The day flies by with Bucky by your side.
You’re a little out of your depth, admittedly. You don’t know much about real estate, or what makes a viable location for a bakery. But Bucky helps - explaining what to avoid, warning signs to look out for, checking out all of the boring stuff like gas mains and water pipes and backup generators. He never patronises you, even when you look at him like a deer in headlights. He clarifies himself when you become unsure, laying out explanations carefully and simply. He’s the perfect right hand man.
“You almost ready, honey?”
“Yeah Buck, give me one second!”
You walk into the kitchen where Bucky’s leaning against the counter, beer in hand. He’s in loose jeans and a linen button up, the white shirt beautifully showing off his tanned skin. He’s got several buttons undone, toned chest peeking through. He looks effortlessly perfect.
You stop in front of him, fixing the buckle on your sandals. You look up at Bucky to find him staring at you, open mouthed.
“You alright, handsome?”
“You look… you look - fuck, you look gorgeous.”
Heat rises up your skin, still so susceptible to his compliments.
“Thank you,” you whisper, leaning up to press a gentle kiss to his lips. “I love you.”
“Love you too,” he chuckles into your mouth.
Bucky rests a hand against the base of your throat, pulling you into him. His other hand plays with the hem of your dress, your skin burning where his fingers brush. You kiss him back harder, groaning when he nips at your bottom lip. He sucks on your tongue, and your knees buckle.
You pull back suddenly, putting three feet of distance between you.
“We need to go.”
Your hair is tousled, chest rising and falling at a rapid pace as you try to regain your composure. Bucky smirks at you, laughing when you flip him off.
“Come on. My parents and paella await us.”
✵  ✵    ·  ✵    *  · ✵
Your Mom has done it again.
Golden lights adorn the beams of the deck, the table littered with flowers and wine glasses begging to be filled. There’s already a few people scattered around the yard, chatting and laughing in the warm evening air.
“Oh baby, you look so beautiful.”
Your Mom engulfs you in a hug, pulling back to look at you from a distance. You’re wearing a yellow sundress, form fitting in all the right places. The skirt blows in the gentle breeze, fanning around you like an angels halo.
“This place looks amazing, Mama. I made you a tropical tart - it’s pineapple and coconut, with a mango coulis.”
“Oh, it’s gorgeous. I’ll put it in the fridge and get you some wine, honey. Buck, you want wine or beer?”
“Wine, please Lori. You need a hand?”
“If you’re offering,” she winks, laughing when he pokes her in the side as they leave towards the kitchen.
“Your father says you’re moving back home.”
You turn around to see Cora looking at you expectantly. You haven’t seen her since the incident that evening months ago.
“Uh, yeah. I love California, but I think I outgrew it after culinary school.”
She nods at you in faux sympathy, overbearing and sickly sweet.
“Aw, sweetie. Sometimes, things just don’t work out the way we hoped, huh?”
“Mhmm,” you hum noncommittally. “Yeah, I guess.”
You look for an exit, but she rubs your arm in support, pulling you back.
“I saw you today, you know.”
“Oh yeah?”
“Yes! Down on Maple, by the corner. You were with Bucky.”
You freeze suddenly, blood running cold. You and Bucky are always affectionate, whether you mean to be or not. It’s just the way it is, being alongside your soulmate. Of course, Cora doesn’t know this. All she’s seen is you, out in town with your Dad’s best friend, looking cosier than platonic.
Your ears are ringing. You wonder, for a second, if you’re experiencing deja vu.
“Yeah, he… he has contracting experience. Just needed a second opinion. I’m no builder, after all.”
You force a laugh, willing the ground to swallow you up.
“You two are friends? You seem pretty close.”
She’s watching you, waiting for a reaction. You don’t give it to her.
“I’ve known him for a while, I see him often. He’s a good friend to my Dad, so you can imagine we know each other pretty well by now.”
“Yeah. It sure looked like it.”
You’re wracking your brain, trying to understand what she saw. Then it hits you.
On the corner of Maple is a florist’s, alive with blooming flowers and plants of every colour. You’d been admiring the tulips when Bucky had wrapped his arms around you from behind, whispering in your ear about how you’re the prettiest flower of all, honey.
There’s no running away from this. She’s caught you, in broad daylight.
“We’re friends,” you reiterate, praying for mercy.
You shoot her a fake smile before turning on your heel, making a beeline for the kitchen to find your Mom. When you get there, you gulp down your entire glass of strawberry wine, begging the sugar to lift your mood and calm your nerves.
The rest of the night goes off fairly smoothly.
You eat paella and fruit tart, drink wine, laugh with your parents and their friends. Bucky occasionally slips a hand beneath the table, squeezing your thigh in silent reassurance. You tangle your fingers with his for a moment before letting go, praying everyone else is none the wiser.
Every time Cora opens her mouth, your chest constricts a little. But she seems to have learnt her lesson somewhat, only speaking to tell obnoxiously long and tangent filled stories and offer comments no one asked for. Eventually, you all disperse from the table, making conversation elsewhere.
“What’s on your mind?” a low voice rasps in your ear.
You’re sat on the swing in the corner of the garden, watching the world go by. Bucky snakes his arm over the back of it, fingertips brushing your shoulder.
“Cora saw us today. Think she knows.”
“She’s a fucking nuisance.”
You laugh, the sound vibrating through Bucky’s bones.
“Yeah, she is. She’s also a gossip. She won’t keep her mouth shut for long if she thinks she’s sitting on something newsworthy.”
He thinks for a moment, taking a deep breath.
“So we tell them.”
“So we tell them.”
You lean back into Bucky’s arm, inhaling the familiar scent of peace.
“We should do it as soon as possible.”
“How about tomorrow?”
You nod, biting your glossy lips.
“Yeah. We need to do it sometime, and we’ve delayed the inevitable for long enough. We’ll do it tomorrow.”
Bucky nudges closer to you, so your sides are pressed together.
“It’ll all work out the way it’s supposed to, honey girl.”
You smile gently.
“I know. I don’t think I believed you the first time you said that to me. But I do now.”
“You and me against the world, baby.”
“You and me against the world, Buck.”
It truly feels like it, at the moment. You and Bucky against the world.
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tag list part one
@lillytracy6996 @securegorgon @roostersforevergirl @povlvr @val-writesstuff  @dreadfulxives18 @1deadpool26 @abbygraceasd @nyutasgirl @mavrellover91 @winterslove1917 @f-this42 @skewedcherries @noisesinthedark @kandis-mom @black-cat-2 @harrystylesandthegoobs @vladsgirlxx @h0nestly-though @arienotari @nash-dara  @wandaneedstherapy @galaxy-dusk @justherefortheficandsmut @cremebruleequeen   @cjand10 @buggy14 @avengers-fixation @blueberrybambi @beautiful-loserr @sarah1barnes @miss-rebel-without-applause @ragingrainbowshipl @shamrockqueen @savemeroman @jenn-f @8crazy-freak8 @daddyjackfrost @openup-yourmind @adangerousbalance  @mandijo17 @daddylorianisastateofmind @rcarbo1 @casa-boiardi @spideegwen @navs-bhat @mssbridgerton @asuni921 @middle-of-the-earth @mfrnchsk
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bluecollarmcandtf · 1 month
Text
The New Garbageman
Lance slowed from his run and glanced at the trash compactor sitting outside his apartment complex. He needed to catch his breath, but he hated being so close. The young man gave a disdainful look to the laborer who seemed wholly unbothered by his choice in career. 'Some men are just meant for menial crap like this,' he thought to himself, 'God knows I wouldn't be caught dead doing it.'
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The jogger looked straight ahead as he passed, not wanting to make eye contact with the sucker lugging away a week's worth of his building's refuge. Lance thought the smell alone was enough to make him gag, but he was even more disturbed by the garbageman's indifference to the squishy contents leaking all over his clothes.
'At what point is that worker just considered trash himself?' Lance pondered with a grimace.
Just as he was about to escape into the entrance of the complex, a sharp ripping noise sounded behind him, followed by a clamour of things crashing to the ground.
Lance made the mistake of looking back, seeing a huge mess scattered across the sidewalk. It looked like a garbage can had exploded and now there was rotten food and crumpled papers everywhere, but that damn sanitation worker had vanished!
"The hell!" Lance shouted in anger, but his rage didn't last long.
A sudden pain stabbed him in the back and he crumpled to the ground like all the garbage had moments before. Everything went black...
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Lance shook off the daze and found himself leaning against one of the garbage bins. The pain in his back didn't feel as acute anymore. All he could feel was an unusual warmth spreading from where he had been stung.
"Where is that goddamn garbage man," he growled, wincing at the litter surrounding him. He was ready to give that idiot a piece of his mind.
He put his hand on the concrete in an attempt to get himself up, but was surprised by the feeling of gloves over his fingers. Lance stared at his gloved palms with total confusion. He was sure as hell that he didn't put those old worn things on!
Then he noticed his shoes. They weren't the sneakers he'd been jogging in moments before. They were some kind of work boots!
"What the hell!" he exclaimed, wondering if he'd actually been knocked out and robbed.
Lance pushed his fears aside and began climbing to his feet, but as he did, he noticed something had appeared over his shoulders!
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"Where'd this come from?" he cried, becoming more and more angry as articles of clothing just kept appearing on his body.
He was positive this dirty old jacket didn't belong to him. It was covered with stains and reeked like a public bathroom. Lance had a habit of always keeping his clothes freshly laundered and fragranced. He wouldn't even wear jeans two days in a row without washing them, so what was this raggedy work jacket doing in his back?
Lance frantically started to pull the thing off, but it seemed stuck on his waistband or something. No amount of thrashing could get him to pull the thing over his head!
He moaned in frustration and threw his fists down angrily. Then, he noticed why the jacket wouldn't come off. It took him a second to realize what he was looking at. The jacket was attached to the new pants he had on!
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Lance shouted out in a state of confused panic. "Help!" he cried, not knowing what else to do, but even if someone did come over, what would he tell them? They'd never believe that his clothes were magically being replaced!
He couldn't even bring himself to look down at what he was wearing. Gone were his running shorts and tank top. In their place, a gross old jumpsuit had enveloped his body. Lance was struck by the itchiness of the course material, but he was even more horrified by how damp it felt against his skin. He didn't want to know what liquid those coveralls were saturated with; oil, sweat, or something even worse?
Lance couldn't find his phone in any of his new attire's pockets. He didn't know what was going on, but he was about to start screaming if he didn't find out soon. His breathing intensified while his heart raced out of his chest. He could feel the panic attack coming.
Then all of a sudden, he stopped...
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That warm feeling in his back had washed over his entire body and told every tense muscle to relax. Lance's heart rate eased and his breathing slowed. The confusion, worry, and panic in his face was gone: a numb expression sat in its place.
Lance didn't understand why he had suddenly become so calm. Internally, he was still disgusted, horrified, and outraged, but he couldn't deny how relaxed his body had became.
Finally able to gain his bearing, the former jogger climbed up from the ground and gave his new outfit another look.
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"What the hell is this thing," he wondered, but his voice had a comparatively lifeless tone.
Lance studied the clothing. The boots were caked with dirt and grime. He could feel his feet sweating inside them. In fact, his entire body felt like it was being cooked. He was completely covered from the neck down with some pretty heavy duty work wear. It was all clothing he would never be caught dead in, yet it looked kind of familiar.
Suddenly it, clicked.
"I'm dressed a goddamn garbage man," Lance spoke again with a monotoned voice.
Then his mouth moved on its own, "I am a garbage man."
The words chilled him to the core. He had not meant to say them! That warm feeling that started in his back had moved to his throat and taken over.
Before he knew it, his hands were moving on their own too. They were picking up the trash littered around him! His legs moved to, crawling his body across the concrete, and Lance couldn't do anything to stop himself.
His mouth wouldn't open when he tried! He wanted to scream! His arms and legs weren't doing what he wanted either. He was trapped in his own body! Lance couldn't speak; he couldn't run; he couldn't hide; he couldn't even panic. His own heart beat at a steady pace like he was the calmest man in the world! His lungs systematically drew in breath after calm breath, and his face was locked in an empty look of indifference...
Lance would have to get used to being around the trash. He was a garbageman now...
One Year Later...
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Lance had never imagined he'd be trapped as a garbage collector for this long. His body hadn't let him look back once since he walked away from his old life. Who knows what happened to his apartment and family. He'd long since given up on the idea of ever going back to his old life.
His days were now spent being puppettered to take out other people's trash. It was disgusting hard work that he got no thanks for, but that didn't matter. He wasn't in control of his body, and his body just kept lugging rank bags of garbage day after day after day.
He'd been subjected to millions of dirty looks as people caught sight of him. Lance knew he must seem pathetic. He was sure he smelled even worse. How could anyone respect a man like him? Even after a year, his face still burnt red when someone looked grossed out by him.
The discomfort of his uniform has become normal to Lance. It was itchy and humid under there, which made sense since it hadn't been washed in the all the time he'd had it on.
Well, that wasn't entirely true...
Every night after work, his body would hop on the garbage truck and get dropped off at the sanitation department's parking garage. There he and the rest of the garbage crew would hose each other down. It didn't do much other than make him cold, but at least he got that.
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After the makeshift shower, he and the rest of the guys would file into the garage. Lance assumed that every one of the laborers were being used as puppets like him, because they appeared just as numb and lifeless as he did. There was no chummy chitchat; there were no friendly waves or claps on the back; hell there wasn't even a smile or frown on any of their faces.
All the garbagemen acted like robotic slaves for unpaid labor, which is exactly what they were.
Lance's theory was that when he'd felt that pain a year ago, he'd had some sort of Syfy-futuritic-techno crap inserted in his back. It had to be controlling his actions. He could feel it on his spine, sending signals to the resto for his body for how to behave.
It was just a theory. He couldn't prove or disprove anything when he had no autonomy over his own body.
So he was stuck seeing himself play out the same awful routine everyday. 'At least the day's almost over,' he thought to himself. At least he could still dream of a life where he didn't wear this disgusting uniform and pick up garbage all day.
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Lance's body joined the rest of the men on the floor. This was where they spent their nights. Whoever was controlling them was clearly too cheap to buy them beds let alone showers or laundry machines
It usually got pretty bleak in there: a whole room of men that aren't allowed to talk or interact outside of working together. There was nothing else to do but sleep, so Lance slid down to the concrete and closed his eyes, wondering if he would ever be anything other than a smelly garbageman ever again.
He thought back to his old life, dreaming about that last morning run he'd gotten before all this happened. He fantasized about what would have happened if he'd just ran around the block one more time.
Would he have avoided this fate or was he just destined for menial crap like this?
Thanks for the Ask, workgearfan
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dotster001 · 7 months
Note
Can I ask angst when they break up with reader to try date other person just to notice they still in love with reader, but now reader is with someone else (i hope is not confuse) with Jade, Floyd, Vil, and Leona?
A/N: normally, I'm not a huge fan of writing angst...but I had way too much fun with this 😁
3k followers masterlist
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"I've got everything I can from you. So it's time for me to let you go. Good luck to you."
Jade said it with a cruel smile on his face, a smile you had grown quite familiar with the six months you'd been dating. In pure confusion, you'dasked him to clarify what the fuck he just told you. He bowed politely, and gave an "of course" before saying it in an even colder way.
He had used all your connections. He had gotten all the information he could with your relationship. So it was over.
Naturally, this was a shock, and absolutely devastating. But he didn't care about your dropped jaw, or the tears slowly starting to pick up in speed as they trickled down your face. You left the room, and that was that.
He returned to his room to call his next target, a first year student who was a prince of a small nation. As he sent a quick message, Floyd stopped tossing the basketball he was playing with, and asked, "If you're finally done with Y/N, can I have them now?"
Floyd had been in love with you months before Jade was even interested in you as a target, but had held back upon both Jade and Azul's insistence. While his brother was one of them, he had nothing but innocent puppy love for you. A part of Jade figured you'd say no to him, considering they shared a face. So he gave his consent, not even thinking twice.
Three months later, he watched you drop Floyd at the lounge, and press a kiss to his cheek, before slowly pulling away and leaving him to his work. His date, the Prince, asked him if everything was alright, and it was only then he realized how stiff he was. He smiled and gave some excuse that he bought with zero effort.
And while his date continued to prattle on and on about things he should never share with someone he's only been dating for three months, Jade found himself unable to do his job for the first time.
Floyd was happier than he'd been in years, and consistently able to do his job, on the promise of you giving him goodbye kisses. You were happier than Jade had ever seen you. The love in your eyes was something deeper, something stronger, than anything he'd ever seen when you looked at him. And something in him broke when he realized that. 
You never looked at him that way. Was it because a part of you always knew he was using you? Was it because you sensed he didn't feel that way about you? Or was it something worse?
Was he never as good as Floyd?
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"I'm bored," He groaned, standing up from the place he was resting his head on your lap.
"Okay, what do you want to do then?" You asked him.
"Nah. I'm bored of this," he gestured between the two of you.
A part of you had known this was coming. Not because you'd wanted to know, but because your friends had warned you. Especially Riddle, who had evidently been through his own relationship of sorts with Floyd. But you were hoping they were wrong. Your Floyd would never hurt you like that. 
Still, even you couldn't ignore the way he watched the exchange student from Noble Bell. The way he was handsier with them than he'd ever been with you. The way he whispered in their ear when he thought you weren't looking. The way he'd nearly kissed him, but stopped at the last second when he realized you were there.
Instead of letting him repeat it, you stood up, and left your own living room, hellbent on reaching Heartslaybul, where you were in for an "I told you so" speech, but if you sat through that you'd get pity cuddles. You heard him call after you, angry that he wasn't getting the last word, but you couldn't stay there anymore.
Riddle knew when he saw the tears on your cheeks. He sighed, and instead of a lecture, he opened his arms to you, letting you sob in his shoulder, as he gently rubbed your back.
A day later Floyd was dating the exchange student, and all your Heartslaybul friends were helping you avoid the two of them. You'd lost a boyfriend, but had been made aware of the best support system in any world.
Months had passed, and you could almost forget how Floyd had seemingly used you for a fun time. Especially when the resident Queen's arms were always open to you, and his eyes always had hearts in them when they looked at you. A man who would give you the larger half of the strawberry tart, despite you knowing full well how much things like that meant to him.
Floyd, meanwhile, was bored again. He had thought he was bored of you. But after the months of not even seeing a glimpse of you, and doing everything he could to get any emotional stimulation from the exchange student who hadn't realized what he was getting into when the hot second year had slid into his life, he was realizing his blunder. There was just nothing but physical attraction, and even that was fading quickly for Floyd.
But you'd always given him the stimulation he needed. You were always fun. You were always adorable. So squeezable. But now goldfishie was the one squeezing you. He wanted to squeeze goldfishie until he popped. You were his to squeeze!
But when he saw you resting on Riddle's shoulder, his chest ached as he realized he didn't deserve to.
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You and Rook had always joked that he'd steal your boyfriend one day. Vil always rolled his eyes when the two of you would snicker about it, and give you a soft kiss on the cheek, while  smacking the back of Rook's head.
So when the two of them had stood nervously before you, tightly gripping each other's hands, you were devastated, but not surprised.
You didn't want to hear their explanations or excuses. Sevens, they tried, but you knew it would be better not to hear it. You could feel vindicated, not giving them a chance to apologize for hurting you, and it would also spare you the painful details that would only break your heart further.
So after shutting the door in their faces, you'd called a certain someone for a sugar pick me up. Trey arrived with a three tiered cake, and held you gently as you cried and told.him your woes. It wasn't until you started dropping self deprecating comments about how you'd never been worthy of Vil, how you'd always known he would leave you one day, that he shuts you up with a kiss. His jaw drops and he apologizes immediately, telling you he knew it was way too soon to be making any move, he just couldn't stand you talking about yourself that way. It wasn't fair to you.
When he leaves, he apologizes again, and tells you not to worry about him. If you don't see him that way, he'll be fine. If you do….take your time. He's willing to wait for you to be okay again.
And he really is willing to wait. And when you tell him you're willing to give the two of you a shot, a month later, he smiles softly and offers to start with a simple cooking date….literally right then because he has an unbirthday party he has to prepare for, but he also wants to be around you.
While you are slowly slipping into a life of domestic bliss, the cracks are beginning to show with Rook. Anytime Vil isn't perfect, he hears about it, and now….well, Vil isn't stupid enough to miss the way Rook's eye has been wandering over to Neige.
He didn't have to be perfect with you. As he eats the flavorless salad Rook made for him, he watches Trey feed you a chocolate covered strawberry, and playfully kiss away the chocolate that stains the corner of your mouth. Rook says something bitter when he notices, and he always notices, indicating his hypocritical jealousy. 
It's amusing, in a painful way, how Rook pretends he wants what you and Vil used to have. But what he really wants is to keep his pretty doll on its shelf, and all to himself.
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When he'd first expressed interest in you, you had asked him. "Will I be pushed to the side in favor of an arranged marriage, or even just someone with more power?"
And he'd laughed. Nah. No one wanted to be trapped in a marriage with him (his parents had tried), and he didn't want more power. He wanted you.
But his pride was something even he couldn't get past. And when a fae duchess with similar image issues in her own nation had come to him, proposing a marriage of convenience, he had agreed without a thought.
"You're overreacting. We can still be together.' "I don't want- no, I can't be your side piece." "For sevens sake, she has a whole harem at her disposal. It's a marriage in title only." "I don't want that. What happened to what we had being enough?" "You're being selfish, and childish." "I'm being selfish? We could settle down in luxury with what you have!" "If you can't see fit to share me, only nominally, mind you, then go." "I will!"
He was furious. You knew his life. You knew a marriage like this could change life for the both of you. What the fuck were you on about?
Over the next few months he'd begun the courtship process with the duchess, going to boring political events to cement his position within that fae court. He kept expecting you to come crawling back. He'd sneer at you and make you prove you deserved him. At least, that's what he thought at first. But the more time passed, the more he just wanted you back in his arms where you belonged. He even has arranged for his room in the fae kingdom to have an extra large bed, so that you would always be comfortable.
One morning, he heard murmurs throughout Savannahclaw. He saw the side glances, and the hasty hushes as he passed. And he knew.
He stormed over to Diasomnia. Surely you were trying to make him hurt. And the best way to do that was for you to start seeing Draconia.
But when he started yelling at the lizard, he had nothing but confusion on his face. Yes, he found you very attractive, but no, he wasn't courting you. Leona was about to yell at him, tell him he couldn't lie to him, when you entered the room…on Vanrouge's arm.
Your eyes widened, and flickered between him and the lizard, before you groaned and rolled your eyes. You whispered something to Lilia, and the two of you were about to leave when he got the urge to yell at you. 
"That scrawny twerp will never be able to love you like I can!"
You slowly turned to look at him, and sneered, before saying, "Thank God for that."
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project-sonadow · 4 months
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My [15M] rival [15/50M] has been weirdly aggressive towards me ever since he lost his memories for the second(?) time. Should I be worried about him trying to kill me again?
Summary
A post on r/relationship_advice by u/Chili_Dog1991
EDIT 1: Stop saying I'm Sonic I'm not.
EDIT 2: Okay I am Sonic. I don't see how that matters.
EDIT 3: Stop trying to figure out which of my rivals this is.
EDIT 4: Stop telling me to contact the police about his attempts to murder me or his age. It's complicated in regards to his age but he's essentially 15 and I can already defend myself way better than the police can in regards to his murder attempts. Also the police would probably try to arrest me too because they're either useless or make things actively worse.
EDIT 5: Stop DMing me to ask how murder attempts can be fun. I shouldn't have to explain this.
EDIT 6: Stop implying I'm a masochist.
EDIT 7: Stop implying I'm an adrenaline junkie. If I just wanted adrenaline I've got tons of other people who could give me that.
EDIT 8: To everyone who actually responded with advice, thank you. I attempted to talk to him about it, we fought again, and it turns out he's been acting aggressive because he doesn't know how to show affection so he just defaults to violence. We ended up holding hands after we physically couldn't fight anymore. It was a great night and I think we're together now.
EDIT 9: Which of you motherfuckers sent this to Tails.
ORIGINAL POST
Hi everyone, using a throwaway account to make this post because my little brother knows my main and the embarrassment would kill me if he ever saw this. 
So for context, I've known this guy for a while now, at least in the context of my life. I've got a pretty hectic life and I'm a traveler, so I've met a lot of people and he's one of the few that's been able to keep up with me. Our first meeting was during a bit of a stressful time because he kind of inadvertently framed me for thievery (we look kinda alike and the police are stupid, it's not his fault but I was pretty pissed at the time) and got me arrested, so we ended up fighting about it in the middle of the street. I'm used to fighting and pretty good at it, so it was a surprise when he turned out to be basically my equal at it, which is pretty rare even among my other rivals. He got the upper hand on me for long enough that the police were able to arrest me again. I was pretty mad but also impressed. Our second meeting was even more stressful because I had just got out of jail after being arrested for the second time, and I was still angry about it so we fought again. I was about to win but then it turned out we were both in danger along with some friends of mine so we both left as fast as we could. Both of these times I could tell he was taking the fight seriously, but I could also tell he wasn't trying to KILL ME kill me. Y'know?
Anyway, in our next meeting he was definitely trying to kill me. Outright said it to my face. I won that fight thankfully, and I'm not even angry about it because a lot of people have tried to kill me over the years and also he has some kind of goal I was getting in the way of, and he didn't even succeed. He ended up changing his mind about that goal though, and when we next saw each other we were on the same side trying to deal with a mutual threat. 
And it was at that point I kind of realized I was in love. I've never really wanted a relationship because I thought it would get in the way of my lifestyle, but with this guy specifically it wouldn't be a problem. I would have told him about it, but then I thought he died and I didn't see him for a while. I wasn't too broken up about it because we only knew each other for a couple days, but I was still sadder than I thought I would have been.
He ended up coming back to life though, and he had lost his memories for the second time in his life (long story I'm not gonna get into) and he didn't really remember me anymore. I know from a mutual friend of ours that he remembered me well enough to be annoyed by my name, which made me irrationally happy, and I think he did end up getting his memories back, but when we first saw each other he definitely didn't know who I was. We fought again, it was a tie, and then we ended up teaming up to take down a mutual enemy again. 
Things have been a bit less chaotic since then. We've fought a couple more times but nothing serious, he's saved my life, I've saved his, you know how it goes. We haven't really talked about anything that happened, but that's fine because neither of us have ever been much for verbal communication and we understand each other just fine. I've tried getting over my crush on him, but that's never really worked because we see each other a lot due to our lifestyles and we have some mutual friends in common, and I like spending time with him anyways, even if we're just beating each other up most of the time.
Personality wise, he's basically my polar opposite, but we get on pretty well despite that. I think aside from my general attraction to danger and his ability to match me in a fight and a race that might be the main thing that draws me to him. I've got a lot of friends, but never one so different from me and yet so similar. He's just always been special to me.
But the main reason I'm making this post is because despite all we've been through, he still acts like we're enemies at worst and temporary allies at best. We fight almost every time we meet unless something less serious is going on, and he's pretty grumpy and mean to me all the time. I like this about him, but it does make me question if he even sees me as anything more than a rival, and I don't know how to ask him because we don't talk about weird emotional stuff. I also think that asking him directly could maybe lead to another murder attempt, which would be fun, but it's not what I'm looking for anymore. I don't mind all the fighting, but just once I'd like to kiss him on the mouth instead of punching his teeth in, y'know?
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coeurify · 7 months
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LACY, OH LACY
ellie williams.
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·˚ ༘ * “like ribbons in your hair, my stomach’s all in knots. you got the one thing that i want."
pairing: ellie williams x f!reader. summary: you’ve got the one thing ellie wants, and it’s rotting her thoughts of you. based on lacy by olivia rodrigo. warning: my first go at true angst, but a happy ending! i took a much sadder direction with the song lol. reader is described as having a father figure. looks of reader never described beside that there’s ribbons in their hair. they/them pronouns used. for a GUTS writing challenge in writing server!
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Envy was a nasty thing. Ellie knew that. Ellie knew that the way her lip curled down upon the sight of your frame disappearing into the Tipsy Bison in Jackson was unfair.
Ellie knew that the way her body tensed whenever you were followed quickly by an older man, one who grumbled and wiped at his sleepy eyes, wasn’t fair. The way she turned on her heel and walked away each time she saw you two, the pebbles under the toe of her converse being kicked away, that wasn’t fair either.
But god, did it tie her stomach in tiny little knots, ones that made it hard to swallow, hard to look away when your shining eyes met her’s across the street somedays.
Sometimes, she tries to blame it on sleep. She tells herself the angry feeling bubbling in her stomach is simply a result of the sleepless nights. Of the shaking and panting breaths that shoot from her as she awakes from another never ending nightmare.
But most days, she realizes it’s only an excuse. This sick feeling is reserved only for you, and Ellie wishes she could swallow it down like a shot, but it instead pools in her mouth, poisoning her movements, her thoughts, her everything around you.
When you smile the smile Ellie knew all too well, It only made her feel worse. It shouldn’t, really, Ellie should quirk her lips up in response, wave you over maybe. Joel would have insisted. But lately she just raised a hand in a softer, colder response before finding a new corner to escape down.
Hell, if Joel was here, if things were different, he would have tilted his chin up knowingly when Ellie’s own chin jutted down at the sight of you, her cheeks painted pink with something akin to affection, rather than the near constant shade of frighteningly pale her face seemed to be lately.
He had done so a million times.
When Ellie was only a measly sixteen, telling Joel she just couldn't let you stay the night while Joel and your old man went on a particularly long patrol.
“I barely even know them!” Ellie had fought, her arms crossed over the quickly beating heart in her chest. She knew you, she knew you liked to wear ribbon in your hair, she knew your favorite color was blue because your favorite shoes were that color, and she knew you were pretty. So fucking pretty, the kind that made her stomach turn all mushy and gross when she tried to talk to you over the semi regular shared dinners Joel and a few other older men around town had insisted upon.
Joel just shook his head, seemingly fighting back one of those chuckles that made it sound like he knew something Ellie didn’t. Ellie hated when he did that. “You know them well enough, kid.” was all Joel had responded, patting Ellie’s slumped back.
Joel did it when you coaxed Ellie out of her little garage for dinner inside of Joel’s, a few years later. He would never say anything, not when he could barely get Ellie to say hello anymore, but a look was all that was needed. Green meeting a more tired looking brown for just a split second, and Ellie knew. Joel saw right through the nervous looks Ellie threw your way, saw through how Ellie insisted on totally platonically complimenting you every time you walked through the door. Ellie’s knees were always pointed your way at the table, and Joel always saw.
“They’re pretty,” Joel said later that night, voice careful as he watched Ellie, who watched the dishes she silently cleaned off the table. “Sweet too, too sweet for a hell like this.” Joel could barely finish the words before he heard the creak of the door, before the house was quiet again.
The last time you were brought up, Ellie remembers being cold. She’s often cold now, but the night on the porch was one of the first truly cold nights in Jackson. It stung her nose while she walked outside of the Tipsy Bison, leaving a crowd of shocked faces.
She felt stupid, so stupid that it made the wind feel even icier against her skin. God, why did she have to dance with Dina? Her eyes had been settled on you all fucking night, but Dina was always a firecracker, always tugging Ellie to dance or talk loudly at the bar top. Ellie couldn’t stop heaving as she slammed the door. Did you think they were together too? Did you think Dina was leaning in to kiss her like Seth thought? Dina wasn’t. Ellie wanted to tell you that as soon as Dina’s lips came to her ear, “They’re watching, El.”
But Seth broke the dance before Ellie could. Joel only made it worse in Ellie eyes, and yet you still followed her out the building.
Of course you did.
“Ellie,” she remembers you saying so softly, as if she might break if you had raised your voice even a little. Maybe she would have, she was a fragile thing that night, something easily crushed in your hands. Hands that had been gripped by yours outside the Bar that night.
You were the only one who didn’t look at her like she had two heads after the Seth incident, after her face had gone red at the sight of Joel. Her harsh words to the older man didn’t scare you away, didn’t make you crumble her between your finger tips.
“You should talk to him.” Your breath hit her face, the only warmth in that fucking air, and ellie remembers smelling something that was just as delicate as a pastry, maybe a perfume your father found on a patrol, maybe just you.
You cared. Something Ellie had convinced herself otherwise of, something that didn’t make sense in her mind. Why did you have any worry about she and Joel? How did it concern you at all? But it did, and Ellie listened to you.
Ellie walked up that frosted porch, arms swinging nervously, searching for space on the wooden railing. Ellie let Joel join her, let him ask about you.
“You like them?” Joel’s hands cupped his coffee, his head tilted Ellie’s way.
Ellie remembers so vividly how she turned away, tucking her chin near her shoulder. “I’m so stupid.”
Ellie could see how Joel’s head shook lightly, “You ain’t. They’d be lucky to have you.”
Ellie wishes she answered him that night, wishes she would have sat back on the porch, wishes she didn’t call him an asshole. Ellie wishes a lot of things about that night. Maybe she would have hugged him, if she had known. Maybe she would have started that conversation with forgiveness, rather than a hint of it, thrown at the end of her scrambled words, swallowed by her eyes she willed not to cry.
Ellie wishes for a lot of things, but she knows it’s useless.
Just as useless as avoiding you, now.
You had worn a black ribbon in your hair, the day of Joel’s burial. You had hugged Ellie so tightly, and Ellie almost could feel the heartbeat she swore she lost.
“I’m so sorry,” you had blubbered into her solid frame, and she almost tucked her nose into the skin of your neck, almost let the scent of your perfume calm her. But she just thanked you, pulled back and wiped one of her shaking thumbs over your tear streaked face. She was wiping your tears that day, and somehow it felt like the only right thing to do.
But Ellie remembers that day for another reason. It had been the first day she noticed the sick feeling in her stomach. The first time the hue of pink that always clouded her vision around you was dusted green instead, jealousy clawing at her throat.
She hated it. She hated how she couldn’t look away from where you slumped against your father’s chest. How his hand rubbed your shaking back as his breath puffed out in cold little clouds.
She hated how it reminded her of him.
Ellie stood alone, and watched on, feeling the tightening green branches of whatever awfulness was growing in the pit of her stomach. She cursed whatever it was laying above space, she dug the ball of her feet into the freezing grass and she cursed the earth for leaving her here to have to see this.
She walked home alone that night, shrugging you off with a rather monotone, “Go home, don’t worry about me,” when your eyes met hers in the cold air. She saw how you deflated lightly, saw how your eyes dropped to the ground. It made her feel more nauseous. She swallowed her feelings, the good and the bad, and wrapped her arms around herself as she turned.
That night Ellie veered away from her garage, finding comfort instead on the old couch that sat in Joel’s living room, and she thinks it may be the quietest place she has ever heard. She wonders what you may be doing. Was the creaking of the walls all you heard in your Jackson home too? Surely you hadn’t ripped an old and faded jacket from a closet that did not belong to you to use as a makeshift blanket, like Ellie had.
No, Ellie is sure your father walked close to you all the way home, sure he pulled out the chair at the kitchen table for you and offered you dinner, she’s even sure he had managed to crack a smile from you.
Ellie goes to sleep with a sick stomach.
“You're jealous, that’s natural,” Dina told her a few weeks later, after another stint of that awful green vine rooting itself in Ellie, one that kept her from taking you up on an offer to help clean up Shimmer. The growing seed that made her shake her head at you and offer a small and untruthful, “Don’t need any help.”
Dina handed Ellie a cup of warm tea in the cold garage. Ellie wouldn’t drink it, and she also wouldn’t eat any of the meals the Jackson residents left at her doorstep. But everyone still tried.
“But I shouldn’t be,” Ellie’s voice didn’t sound like her own. It was void of any vibrancy, any spark that Ellie’s tongue usually made. It was empty, spoken coldly. cold for herself, cold for that feeling in her chest.
“You’re grieving, El, it’s ok.”
Dina pressed a kind hand to her shoulder, and despite the way Ellie poisoned you in her mind, she still found herself wishing it was yours instead.
And now, more weeks that all pressed confusingly together had passed. The flower’s outside Joel’s were covered by snow, wilted and drained of life. His house had been empty since Ellie stole some of his old clothes a week back, a jacket that embarrassingly laid on the edge of her chair as she swung open the door of her garage turned home, glancing at another container on her doormat.
It was from you, of course it was. Ellie was sure you had been sent from some sort of heaven she was far too damned to ever access. A small note held your handwriting, and Ellie leaned down, grasping the food, the warmth burning at her frozen fingers.
Maria said she didn't see you at supply day again. I think you’d like this. I remember you eating it a lot at the dinners.
ps. you’re doing great in patrols, glad you went back to them. you’re one of the best jackson has.
xx.
A strand of auburn hair fell across her cheek as her chin dipped down, eyelashes tickling her skin as they closed.
Ellie was avoiding you, you had to have known that. Jesse knew it, Dina knew it, hell, even Tommy had commented on it last time he came by. Sure, Ellie was avoiding nearly everyone still, but it was no secret she turned the corner whenever you and your old man were around.
But here you were, making her food, leaving her notes of praise, complimenting her as if you had any need to. It made Ellie’s always down pointed lip quiver for a moment. You still fucking cared. Just like always.
It didn’t feel nice, it didn’t feel like how it would’ve if she got this note months ago. Then she would’ve clapped a hand over her heated cheek, stuffed it under a notebook like a kid with a crush.
But now, it felt more like an ache. A burning in her chest that made her push the door back open and slide the container on the waiting table near her door.
She should eat it later, that would be the kind thing to do. But the little voice whispers in Ellie’s ear again, the voice that drips poison over the thankfulness blossoming in her chest, ‘You think he helped them make that?’ the voice asked.
The palm of her hand pressed to her eyes as she leaned on the doorway, “Fuck.” Ellie muttered.
She kicked the wood, “Fuck!”
Ellie slammed her already bruised fist on the cracked wood and yelped. The splitting pain broke the girl from her mini temper tantrum, and the empty hand cupped the throbbing skin, a pair of teeth sinking into her bottom lip.
Surely this wasn’t a normal way to react to something so kind, something as simple as food. She didn’t have to overthink every small thing, didn’t have to let her brain flip every positive to a negative, but how does Ellie stop what she has grown so accustomed to?
Ellie’s first attempt to rid her chest of the vines that constricted her ribs was a deep breath and a squeeze of her eyes. She pretends she can smell your perfume still lingering in the air, she imagines your cheeks turned up in a smile, she wonders what color of ribbon you found this week to turn into some new hair tool, and then she exhaled.
Maybe if she thought hard enough, the vines would retreat, the ache on her bones would feel more like the silk of your touch. Maybe she can let herself care more about what you give her, kindness, food, those stupid butterflies she used to feel whenever you spoke, that set of pastel oil paints from a year ago. Rather than letting that voice remind her of all the things you could not give her, things you could not repair.
You hadn’t taken Joel from her, your old man hadn’t either. You having that.. having him, it wouldn’t make any of what Ellie was going through change. She swallowed the truth down like nails as she turned away from the garage.
When Ellie opens her eyes again, her vision seems a little more bright.
By the time Ellie winds up at the stable, she is pressed closely by Dina who tends to Japan, brushing quietly
Ellie breaks the silence first, and it surprises both when the first word from her mouth is your name.
Dina’s gaze shoots over, and Ellie can almost see the thin ice she is debating stepping on, lips parting. You were never an easy topic, and usually when El uttered the syllables of your name, Dina was in for a long and drawn out conversation she never knew truly how to maneuver, the conversation layered with every confusing feeling Ellie had for you. The guilt, the jealousy. Everything in between.
Ellie beats her to speaking again, “They left me food again today. I woke up to it.”
Dina nods slowly, eyes falling back to her horse. “That’s nice of them.”
“It is,” Ellie agrees, flexing her bruising knuckles. “Left a note too, complimenting me and shit.”
The brunette to the side of her pauses for a moment, her boots turning in lightly as she judged her next step. “If you had told me this a year ago, I think you would’ve blabbered for like.. forty minutes about how they were ‘the greatest thing ever to exist’ or convinced me it meant they were in love with you.”
The air is silent, and Dina thinks she may have overstepped.
But the vines have taken on a softer sort of squeezing on Ellie’s chest now, one that felt like the ribbon you wore.
“Yea,” she smiled lightly, and Dina stumbled a bit, maybe out of pure shock. “Yea I probably would have.”
The silence finds them again, though there’s no thickness to it, and Ellie finds her heavy shoulders just slightly less pained for a moment.
Until the stable door swings open, and Ellie watches as Dina’s head turns. She can tell from the look on her face alone, on the way she blinks a few times and glances at Ellie.
You had just walked through.
You walk by where Japan and Shimmer stood, and you smiled like you always did.
This time, Ellie’s chest only tightened lightly. She only felt the small tug of ribbon when she recognized the flannel you had pushed up to your elbows, one she had seen your father wear on patrols many times.
This time, Ellie tries to smile back. She doesn’t let that burn find her stomach, doesn’t let the voice sneer at the clothing and remind Ellie of what she did not have. This time, Ellie speaks instead.
“Thanks for the food.”
You look almost as nervous as Ellie feels. You probably didn’t expect responses by this point.
“Oh it’s no problem,” you shake your head and smile. “Hope you enjoy it.”
Ellie nods, tensing up, useless to decide where this conversation should go, where it could go.
Just as the branches begin to curl around her lungs again, Dina cuts them down with her voice.
“El and I thought about sharing it after patrol today, maybe over some shitty movie. You in?”
The auburn haired girl shoots an aimed look at Dina, but the way you light up and step closer, the way she can smell that pastry scent again, it calms her lightly.
“It’ll be fun,” Ellie offered, voice cracking toward the end.
“Yea,” you smile, toes bouncing like they did when you were excited. Toes covered by your favorite shade of blue shoes. “I’d really like that.”
When you meet Ellie’s eyes, she can see pink instead of green again for the first time.
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ilylovelyz · 8 months
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⍣ ೋ after the break-up
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☆ kuroo, oikawa, daichi, hinata, bokuto akaashi, sakusa
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KUROO TETSURO — assuming reader is the one who ended it, he's absolutely blindsided and shocked. he walks around in a daze; to anyone who didn't know him, he just looks tired or whatever. to whoever does, it's clear he's absolutely destroyed and crushed. of course, he'll try to act his best to not let it show how sad he is, but it really shows when his teammates were wondering where he was, only to find him sitting alone on a bench, looking down at his feet somberly.
"kuroo." kenma called out softly, his lips pursed into a line at the sight of his childhood sitting ways away from the rest of his team. it took a minute before kuroo was looking over his shoulder to look over at the shorter lad, his eye-bags dark, lips pursed into a straight line. "...i miss her." kuroo mumbled, looking back down at his feet, one of his hands coming up to brush through his distressed black hair.
he feels even worse when he sees you in the distance, walking home with a friend of yours. he can only think and remember when it was him walking you home, your hand intertwined with his. he chews on his lip as you get smaller and smaller as you walk more into the distance. he misses you.
OIKAWA TORŪ — he acts totally unbothered. his teammates didn't even know the two of you broke up until one of them asked about you jokingly, to which oikawa stuck out his tongue, huffing a "she dumped me," before swiping the nonexistent hair off his shoulder with sass. he thinks he's okay; he feels okay. it doesn't catch up to him until one day he's still practicing long after official practice ended.
oikawa grunted as he jumped into the air, his hand coming up to slap the ball. he can only furrow his eyebrows in annoyance when the ball hits the net, dropping over to the floor. "damn it." he curses, wiping the sweat off his forehead. i'm thirsty, he thinks, looking to the side where you would sit on the floor, watching as he practices.
but you're not there... where are you? "y/n-chan?" he calls out, his eyes looking around the empty gym. "..she's gone oikawa, remember— she broke up with you," a voice speaks from behind him. he turns around to see iwaizumi standing behind him, his eyes low with concern. oikawa feels a pang of hurt within his chest, his face morphing into one of hurt. oh, thats right, you left him.
DAICHI SAWAMURA — please, he's so heartbroken. he's so sad and hurt, when you were breaking up with him, he knew he couldn't change your mind, so he let you go, because he knew that was the best choice for the both of you. he stills watches over you, his protectiveness still present. he'll still watch you in class and in the hallways, his eyes never lingering off you for even a second.
"y/n—y/l/n-san," he says meekly, his eyes watching your face for any discomfort. "how are you doing?" he asks. he still attempts to talk to you, even if you crushed his heart completely. "i'm doing great, daichi-san, how about you? how is volleyball going?" his heart stings at your formality, he would do anything just to hear the way you call him by that cute nickname you gave him.
i'm hurt, i miss you, i miss you—i miss you a lot. can we get back together? "i'm doin' great, we are able to go to nationals, i'm so excited." he says with a forced grin, he hopes you don't notice the way his smile doesn't meet his eyes. "sure, let's go to the rooftop?" you say, slowly getting up from your seat. usually, you'd hold his arm as the two of you walked, but you don't. instead, you walk with a slightly behind him with much of a distance for his taste, but it's okay. he doesn't want to make it anymore awkward than it already is. he'd rather be your friend than loose you completely.
HINATA SHOUYO — he cried, he cried for days. even tsukishima felt bad for him. he was almost like a zombie, and he felt even shittier when he was so exhausted that his spikes were shit. he needed your presence, he needed you to be at his side, but you weren't there at all, you left him, you left him shattered and inconsolable. he nearly got sick with the way he was so sad, almost throwing up a few times because of how hard he cried.
"y/n," he calls out from behind you. you turn your head to look him, removing your hand from your locker. "oh, hey, shouyo," you say sheepishly, tone seemingly afraid and hesitant. you seem to know what he's already feeling. "how are you doing?" you ask, turning your body to face him.
"i.." he stammers, swallowing thickly as he tries to prevent his voice from cracking. "uhm—are you gonna be there for my game next saturday?" he asks, his eyes almost wide with the way he waits for your answer. his eyebrows furrow with sadness when you give him a bittersweet smile, "i.. maybe."
BOKUTO KOUTARO — his emotions are even worse than hinata's. he actually refuses to accept the break-up, and literally gets on his knees to beg you not to leave him. he'll literally wrap his arms around your waist, his head mushed into your belly as he cries into your embrace, mumbling apologies and love confessions. he almost loses a couple of games after the breakup because he was such an emotional wreck.
"see you later y/l/n-san." your friend says, waving a goodbye as you part ways with her. you say a goodbye as well before continuing your walk down the halls. your heart beats nervously, sometimes you see bokuto in this part of the school, but you're not surprised that you do. he pops up in front of you, almost as if he was awaiting for your arrival.
"y/n.." he whines, biting on his lower lip, his hair greatly deflated. you can only sigh at the sight in front of you. "hey, kou.." you say softly, you're not even going to try to switch to his surname or even his full first name either, that'll actually destory him and you know that.
"y/n, can we please just–", "kou," "–can we please just talk about this, i need you." he whimpers, hastily walking over to you, his hands grabbing at your elbows. "koutaro." you sternly say, your use of his first full name as him freezing in place, his lips pursing into a straight line as he tries not to cry. he's then pulling you in for a hug, his head resting in the crook of your neck and he sniffles against you, whining your name like a sweet baby. you can only rub your hand against his back comfortingly before you're pulling away from him for the last time.
AKAASHI KEIJI — he tried to handle it maturely, he really tried. he respects your decision, it'll be unfair to force you to stay in a relationship when you're unhappy. like a mature person, he's polite, so polite everyone almost forgets that you two dated. but not everyone, after all, you two dated for almost two years. he's still concerned for you, though, he still looks out for you, he always will.
"y/l/n-san, do you need help with that?" he asks, quickly coming over to your side when he sees you walking with a bunch of books in your hands. "y-yeah, please, akaashi-kun," you stutter, your arms relaxing when he takes more of the lion's share of the books from you. "thank you, they were really heavy." you joke, cheekily grinning at his help.
"no problem, just helping out." he says, looking straight ahead of him blankly. he seems to be dealing with it as well as he can, of course, he misses you, and he still resists the urge to text you late at night when he's upset. what about you though? you can't help the way you're gazing at him from behind, marveling at his pretty emerald eyes. akaashi notices, of course, but he doesn't take a plan of action to do anything about it, and neither do you. it was your decision after-all.
SAKUSA KIYOOMI — like oikawa, he acts totally unbothered. he'll brush off whenever someone sends their condolences on the breakup, either scolding them for their annoying pity, or not saying anything at all. deep inside, he's almost annoyed at the way he's so hurt. it's helpless, there's no point in being sad when he can't do anything about it. but he does, but it's over. he feels out of place, his daily structure and schedule is disrupted, and silently, he still awaits for you to call for your place back into his life.
"ah! kiyo.." you shout, trailing off when he walks right past you. it stings you greatly, but at the same time, you understand his actions. the two of you dated for nearly four years, since he was a still a young teenager. he avoids you like the plague now, not even sparing you a glance whenever he does come across you.
you won't ever deny it, even if it's a shock for your pride, you miss him. you miss him and his stupid check-ups, him and his annoying pesters of "did you wash your hands?" you thought that he would be okay with remaining as friends, and he did agree to that, but now, it's like you don't even exist to him. to him, you do, but he just refuses to interact with you, his pride hurt and crushed, as for the first time, he's disturbed.
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norrisleclercf1 · 2 months
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Hey! Hope you are doing well! For norstappen Lando has not been feeling well (he did not tell anyone) and it shows during a race, during interviews and such they mention how lando had not done well and when max sees the videos he tried to comfort lando :(
A/N: Lando would 100% do this but I think he'd tell reader and make sure she wouldn't tell anymore
"Lando, maybe you should rest this race." You whisper, seeing the worn-down expression, his eyes sunken and a little puffy and lips a little pursed as he was having trouble breath through his nose. "I can't, we've been doing so well, need to be there for the team." Lando grumbles, putting his head between his legs.
You make a noise of disagreement and bite your thumb, wanting to go get your other boyfriend Max, knowing one look at Lando and Max would storm right up to Zak and Andrea and tell them Lando will not drive. He wouldn't say, isn't, it's will not drive, and he would not take no for an answer.
"You aren't telling Max; I know what you're thinking. Don't do that to me," Lando wheezes before throwing himself into a fit of coughs. "Lando, please you're sick, don't drive." You beg through the phone, you wish you were there or else he wouldn't be driving. "I'm driving Y/n, I need too. I'll be fine, take some non-drowsy cold medication, eat something and jump in the car." He groans, setting down the phone and blowing his nose.
"You're so stubborn, just tell Max, promise me?" You ask, Lando groans and picks up the phone, "Okay, I'll tell him." You feel some relief hearing that as you know Max would be up in arms at his boyfriend being sick.
"Alright, I love you baby, please get some rest." Lando nods and kisses his hand and waves at you as he ends teh FaceTime and groans loudly wanting to just curl up into a ball and die. Lando hasn't felt this bad since Brazil '22 where he had food poison during his birthday.
Banging on his door has him sitting up and runs over and applies some concealer to give him some hint of color rather then looking pale. "Coming!" He yells and curses, sounding so congested and moves blowing his nose and takes a tentative sniff being able to feel some air pass his nose and he sighs. "Good enough,"
----------------------
"Lando? Everything okay?" Will asks through the coms as Lando curses, being passed by the Haas and dropping to P16. "Yes, just having trouble," Lando turns off his radio and tries hard to keep his eyes open, fighting with everything in him to finish this hell of a race.
To make it worse, they were in the desert and Lando was sweating like crazy. He couldn't figure out if it was from the heat or the fever coursing through his body. The rest of the race passes in a blur before Lando is pulling in a horrible P19.
Lando could feel everyone staring at him, his team rushing to his side as Lando pulls himself up and takes a second to get the world to stop spinning. "Lando? Are you okay?" One of the mechanics asks, but Lando waves him off and walks away, heading to his media manager.
Pulling off his stuff he drops down on a chair and places his head between his knees. "Lando? Lando?" Honestly Lando doesn't remember much after that.
------------------------------
"Max! Congratulations on winning the GP, we know you're not the biggest fan of media so we'll be quick. We know that you are having a fabulous race and Red Bull couldn't be prouder, so how does that feel?" Max smiles, it's always the same questions but really, he just wanted to know where Lando went.
Lando started P3, but he didn't see him when they pulled up to the podiums, instead Charles and Lewis were on the podium and Max still couldn't get anyone to tell him where Lando was.
"Um, yeah it was a lovely race, Red Bull is happy with where we are and to continue this season as strong as we started, and we will continue to do that. But I was really hoping for a fight with the McLaren of Lando but didn't get one. Where did he finish?" Max was smooth with it, to the other drivers they would've rolled their eyes and made fun of him for checking up on his boyfriend.
"Oh, Lando finished P19, something seemed wrong, even in his interviews," The person points over to a screen and Max freezes seeing how tired and defeated Lando looked. "Max?" Max whips his head around and smiles, acting like he wasn't internally panicking. "Sorry, I've got to go, thank you so much," Max waves and walks off, practically storming through the paddock and reaching McLaren not caring for the stares from the crew as he makes his way to Lando's driver room.
Shoving the door open he sees Jon placing a warmth cloth over Lando's nose and a cold one on his boyfriends forehead. "Max," Max just gives Jon and look and the older man nods his head and walks out leaving Max alone with Lando.
"You're sick," Max points out, which elicits a loud groan from Lando who doesn't even have the strength to talk. "Lando, you should've told me." Max whispers and sits down on the floor so he was eye level with Lando. Lando doesn't do anything but holds his hand out which Max happily takes. Raising his hand, he kisses Lando fingers and moves closer to where Lando puts his other hand in Max's hair.
"You're sick baby, you shouldn't have raced." Max begs and lies his head on Lando's stomach. "Needed too, race, shouldn't have. Did horrible." Lando sniffles, and Max coos, moving closer and pulls Lando into his arms. "It's okay, let's just focus on getting you better yeah?" Max asks, and Lando nods curling more into Max and sighs. "Y/n is going to be mad," He whispers which makes Max snort.
"Don't worry, I won't tell her you lied to me," Lando smiles and hides his face in Max's neck.
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imbored1201 · 4 months
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Would you be okay okay with writing a pernille x Magda x platonic!reader fic. Maybe sick fic?
Another one with Barca where teen!reader gets sick or injuried
In both reader plays for Sweden so she knows Frido when she joined Barca
Barca’s Sick Teenager
A/n: The Magda and Pernille fic is currently in the works right now. I also have COVID rn, so I’ve been stuck in my room, so sorry if it’s bad, me being in my room all day is driving me crazy right now and I cannot think properly anymore
-There’s also a lot of motherly Alexia with some Olga since Ik you guys love motherly Alexia
Barcelona Femeni x Teen Reader
Warnings: Mentions of throwing up
Word Count: 1,427
Alexia was ready to start her day, dreading the idea of having to wake you because she couldn’t trust you to wake up to your alarm, it was a warning she got from Fridolina. According to her, you never woke up to your alarm when you guys shared a room during camp, but to her surprise you were already up and dressed. "Did you do something?" She asked, and you looked at her confused. "You're only productive like this when you do something wrong."
"I just woke up early and couldn't fall back asleep." Not only did you wake up early, you also threw up. You felt disgusted, so you decided to take a nice, hot shower.
When you got out, you threw up a second time. You're pretty sure the hot shower made everything worse, but it did feel good. Alexia could see something was up, considering you looked a little pale. 
"You want me to make you eggs?" She asked you, and you quickly shook your head. Just thinking about food made you want to throw up again. 
"I'm not hungry," she gave you a stern stare. "You're not leaving without eating; I'm not going to have my child pass out on the field because she didn't eat; it'll make me seem like a bad mom." You rolled your eyes at that. 
Everyone kept calling Alexia your mom; you both hated it. Now she's accepted it and taken on the role. 
"Ale, I'm not hungry," you argued again. "Okay, fine, at least eat some grapes or something." You nodded as you grabbed your bag, trying to ignore your headache, which was getting worse. 
"Bebita, are you feeling okay?" She asked, noticing the pained expression on your face. You nodded. "Are you sure?" She raised her eyebrows at you. "Yes Ale." She knew that wasn't true, but she also knew you wouldn't admit anything. 
—————
You were starting to regret your decision during the car ride; you were sweating but really cold. You ignored Alexia's complaints about having the heater on. 
"Are you sure you're okay?" She asked again as she parked the car. "I'm fine Ale; you've asked that like 10 times already." She rolled her eyes, and you quickly got out the car and grabbed your bag. She had another meeting today to look at her knee again, so you were walking by yourself to the locker room, which was a really rare sight. 
You groaned as you noticed Pina and Patri smirking right when you entered. They were up to something. "Not today," you told them as you walked past them. Now they looked worried too. 
"Are you okay? You look like you're about to die," Patri told you as she put an arm around your shoulder. "I'm fine," you told her. "You sure?" Pina asked, and you nodded. 
—————
"You look pale," Pina told you once again. You shoved your shirt into your locker. "Pina, please stop talking." She looked offended at that, but surprisingly listened. 
The team kept glancing at each other when they noticed your little mood. "Teenage hormones," Salma shrugged as she patted your head and walked out. 
—————
It seemed like everyone accepted that since they stopped bothering you, but they were worried once again when they saw how you were struggling to keep up with everything.
————
You groaned in pain as you fell roughly from Irene's tackle. "You okay Bebe?" She questioned, as she turned you onto your back. You were holding your stomach, tears starting to stream down your face. 
"Hey, what's wrong?" She was panicking now, thinking she hurt you. You shook your head as you started crying harder. "I don't feel good," you sobbed as Irene felt your forehead. "What's wrong?" Mapi rushed over. 
"She doesn't feel good," Irene explained. "She's hot." Mapi put a hand on your cheek, "She's sick." Mapi sighed and helped you sit up. Jona was quick to come over as well; the rest of the team stood by but were quickly sent away for a water break. 
"You were training while sick?" He asked, looking like he was about to yell at you for being so reckless. It made you miss Alexia now. "I didn't think it was this bad," you cried out, reaching for Irene, who pulled you into her lap and rubbed your back. 
Jona was going to stay more, but he was pulled away by Marta. "She's a teenager; they never tell anyone how they're feeling. Let's just get her rested in time for the game," Marta told him. 
"Can you stand?" Marta asked cautiously, and you nodded, but once you tried you got dizzy again and held onto Irene tighter. "Lucy!" Irene yelled, and all of a sudden you were being carried.
"You will never hear the end of this from Alexia," you leaned your head to her shoulder. "Don't start," you muttered, closing your eyes. You were cold, exhausted, and sweaty. A warm shower sounded nice to you again. 
—————
You were so close to sleeping, but it was interrupted when someone put a wet cloth on your forehead. "Leave it," Frido told you, noticing your annoyed expression. "How many people are in this room besides us?" You asked, and Frido looked around for a second. "5", “Don’t tell Magda” Frido thought for a second. “I’m not because she’ll call me a bad babysitter”
"Donde esta?!" You heard Alexia shout. "Make that 6," she gave you a sympathetic look and quickly moved out of Alexia's way as she stormed to you two. 
"This has got to be the dumbest thing you've done," she muttered as she grabbed the medicine and granola bar from Lucy. "Eat and take this after. Then we're getting you home and your bed ridden until your for sure better."
"What about training?" Her glare was enough of an answer for you. You saw Lucy holding in her laugh. "Kid, if you want to make it to the game this weekend, listen to the captain." You nodded and ate your granola bar. When it was time to take your medicine, it didn't go well. You knew Lucy enjoyed it though.
————
Safe to say you passed out on the ride back. It was the first time you actually gave Alexia peace. 
You only woke up towards the end of the car ride, having occasional cough attacks. Alexia honestly thought she would have to take you to the hospital. 
————
"Olga!" You shouted happily, she smiled at you and pulled you into a hug, feeling your head. "She went to training sick; she's an actual idiot," Alexia ranted as she put your bag on the ground. 
"Alexia, don't call her an idiot," Olga said sternly as she guided you to the couch. "She had Lucy hold me down and suffocate me," you told Olga as you grabbed a blanket. "Alexia!"
"She wouldn't take the medicine," Alexia defended herself. "Doesn't mean you suffocate the poor girl" Olga turned to you. "I'll make soup for you; get some rest," she turned to Alexia. Giving her a dirty look. "She wouldn't open her mouth; holding her nose was the only thing that worked; she even ignored my promises to get her ice cream."
Alexia grabbed another wet cloth before Olga could make another comment. When she came back, you were already dead to the world. Curled up on the sofa, she shook you a bit. "Bebita, you should go to your bed; it'll be comfier."
"To far," you slurred. Alexia sighed and picked you up. She tucked you in bed and put the cloth on your head. 
"Sorry for lying," you sleepily mumbled, holding her hand. She gently rubbed your back to put you back to sleep. "It's okay. Get some rest. I'll wake you when the food is done." She leaned down to kiss your cheek and watched as you fell back into a deep sleep. 
————
Alexia collapsed on the couch next to Olga. "She's asleep"
"You're good with her, even though you look like you want to murder her half the time." "She loves to give me heart attacks, but I love her. She's my kid." Olga gave Alexia a look. 
"Our kid," Alexia corrected, finally opening the team group chat. Everyone was asking about you. Marta and Irene even declared they were going later to your guys place to take care of you.  
Alexia knew she would probably have to get extra blankets since they would likely end up staying the night. 
————
And that's exactly what happened; Marta even dragged Caroline along, and Mapi, Ingrid, and Lucy showed up unannounced later on. You seemed to like the attention though. You even made Mapi and Ingrid go get you your favorite treats so you could eat after your sickness passed. 
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wonderlandwalker · 4 months
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Living Nightmares | Finnick Odair x Reader
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THG Masterlist / Taglist / Inbox
Summary: Finnick wakes up to find you slipping away from him. As he tries to get help, he loses track of you, only to find you in the hands of the careers. The situation seems to get worse before he finally thinks he's at peace, but you're there to remind him to keep going.
Content Warnings/Tags: angst, a whole lot of it, fluff at the end though I'm not a monster, mentions of blood, hypothermia, violence
Word Count: 3.4k
A/n: I've been obsessing over our boy Finnick so here's a fic full of angst, because apparently that's the only thing my brain can think of. Dividers by @chilumitos
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This wasn’t exactly where they had thought they’d be at the moment. It all started during the second day in the arena, they had the allies, they had the supplies, and they thought they had the advantage, but worry took over as they started losing sight of each other in a chase, and they tried to find the others, only to end up in a new part of the arena. It was dark, cold, and they had lost their supplies, and there was no food or water source nearby.
Neither of them was really to blame. It had been a long day, and the surroundings didn't inspire much hope. So, both of them had fallen asleep on some of the leaves that covered the ground. The cold air was still blowing around them.
But at least he wasn't alone, two sets of minds were better than one, at least he still had you.
The rising sun urged him to open his eyes, and he stretched out his arms, which had become stiff from the cold. It was only when he sat up and ran his hand through the hair that had fallen in your face that he noticed how cold you were. He quickly got up from behind you, pulling you into his lap, tilting your head up a little. Your skin was almost as white as snow, and your lips were starting to turn blue. The colour that once held so many fond memories of the ocean and the sky, now being replaced by fear and panic. He shook you lightly, trying to wake up as if you were just sleeping deeply. When you didn't react, he called out for you, his voice laced with concern.
“Y/n? Come on love, wake up.” But the only movement that came from you was your arm falling from where it was, the harsh thud to the ground reinforcing his fears.
“No, no come on. This isn't happening, wake up” Finnick had thought about this happening, how could he not when it was the basis for most of his nightmares? But he always woke up from those to find you resting in his arms, your soft breathing comforting him back to sleep. This time he didn't wake up, and he didn't hear your breathing to soothe him. He checked your pulse for a heartbeat, but all he could feel was his own heart racing in his chest. He looked around him as if there would be someone there to help, but you were alone.
He started CPR to try and quicken up your pulse, to get you to breathe again, and while he knew you probably couldn't hear him, he had to try.
“Do you remember when you came back from your first games, I really thought that had been the scariest moment of my life. When I survived my own, at least I knew you were alright at home. When you came back, I thought it was over, I wanted to see the positive side, but you seemed so weak, and having watched you, I knew how bad of a state you were in. It tore me apart to have to see it and not be able to do anything." His voice cracks a little, his head starting to swim with more thoughts.
"I won’t do this without you. You can't leave me now, not like this." He pushes a little harder on your chest while doing compression. He's sure if he does so anymore, he will crack one of your ribs.
"I imagined us getting married. I imagined proposing to you by the lake, that little spot you showed me, I know how happy you were in the middle of the field of dandelions. Every worry seemed to slip away from you, like a little hideaway from the horrors of the world. That's how you make me feel every time I'm with you. It's like there is no one in the whole world except us. And I know how cliche that sounds, I know you never liked cliches, but it's true, you are my world, and there is nothing I wouldn't do for you.”
Right as he was about to pour out more of his heart to you, he heard a noise coming from the distance. The steps were too heavy to be coming from a small animal, but his instincts also told him that whoever it was, they weren't there to help.
He knew he had two options. try and fight off whatever was coming while carrying the love of his life with him. Or keep you hidden, try and fight while distracting them away from you and coming back when the coast was clear. He tried his best to hide you underneath a blanket of leaves, making you disappear into the surroundings, he gave you a light kiss on the forehead, scared to get too close and feel how cold your skin still was. He heard the footsteps come closer.
“Just hold on a little longer darling, I’ll be back before you know it.”
And so he turned around, grabbing his trident a little harder than normal, and came face to face with one of the careers. Finnick's muscles were still sore from the night, but he was ready to run. He had to get away from here before the tribute started to wonder if he had been alone.
He ran towards a clearing, making the tribute follow behind him. He ran to a split in the path, which gave him two options, left or right. He heard rustling coming not far behind him, and his instincts told him to go right, so he did. He ran for a while until he reached a dead end, the line of trees becoming so dense he couldn't get through anymore. The tribute was still on his heels, and Finnick had to think fast again. He saw a body of water nearby and decided that diving in, despite the creatures that might be in it, and the chilling temperature it must be, would be better than certain death. He knew he would be able to outswim the career, it luckily being one of his strengths. He started to run towards it, and when he got to the edge, he jumped like his life depended on it, but it still wasn't his life he was worried about, it was yours.
Once he got to the other side of the water, he looked back, and the tribute was nowhere to be seen, probably having decided that the risk of the wild waters wasn't worth it. Finnick wasn't thinking about the relief of escape, all he was thinking about was how much time you had left.
It was by some sort of miracle he found Peeta, Johanna and the others on a small beach nearby, and he practically ran straight into them at full speed without even announcing himself. Once the others had realized it was Finnick, and he was not a danger to them, they calmed down, but the state of despair he was in did alarm them soon after
Peeta looked up at him, he was completely out of breath from how fast he had run.
“Sit down Finnick, try and catch your breath” He told him, while placing an assuring hand on his shoulder.
“There’s no time to sit down, I need to go back.” He spoke with such certainty it startled the others.
“Go back where?”
“ To the clearing, I don't know where it was, but I remember how to get there.”
“Why do you need to go back?” Johanna asked him, seeming confused.
“Because y/n is still there, and she doesn't have long”
The others didn't need to hear more, and started to pack up the things they had with them to follow him.
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When they had made it back, Johanna was in front with Finnick, she wouldn't care to admit it out loud, but she was worried about you as well.
“Where?” She asked him
“Over by the cut-down stumps, next to the maple and the oak tree.” Finnick had memorized the entire area in order not to lose track of you, and with Johanna being from the lumber district, he knew this clue would be the most helpful to her.
“There’s no one here” she said, looking back at him frustrated.
“There has to be, she was right there when I left.”
“She might have been, but unless hypothermia comes with the power to turn invisible, she’s gone.”
“Well, she couldn't have left by herself” His mind was reeling with all the possibilities, each one more horrible than the last.
“Well then who took her, there are no drag marks, it wasn't any kind of mutt.”
“I don't know, maybe-” his eyes fell to the mud next to the fallen leaves, the ground here was in permafrost, it couldn't have come from here. When the tribute started chasing him he had already put distance between where you were and where he was going. They must have gone back after he went into the water to try and see if he had any supplies, and have found you. But your body wasn't here, that was a good thing, that means you must be alive, why else would they have taken you?
“They’re at the swamp”
“How are you so sure?”
“The career, he was alone when he chased me, he has to have set up camp somewhere with the others, it can't be far from here otherwise he wouldn't have carried her.”
“Alright, but we don't even know where that is, the swamp must be massive, they could be anywhere, we can’t just run in without a plan.” Johanna tried to reason, looking over to Finnick, only to realise he was no longer there.
“Where did he go?” Peeta asks her.
“Probably to the swamp, probably without a plan.” She sighed, she was annoyed, but couldn't say she was surprised, she knew he would do anything for you, including laying down his own life.
“How do we find him, we don't even know where the swamp is, y/n and Finnick were the only ones who crossed it.”
“You don't happen to have a map, do you?” Johanna asks, sarcasm heavy as usual.
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While the others were trying to figure out where exactly Finnick had run off to, he himself ran into some trouble. He knew it was his fault for going in without a plan or any backup, but he had listened to his heart, not his head. His heart convinced him he had to find you, telling him that if he didn't find you and wake you up, he’d never be able to see your eyes looking back into his. His heart was telling him to go and save you, even though his head was telling him it was probably already too late anyway.
He wasn't paying close attention to his surroundings as he should have been, trying with all his might to find you. They had found him when he was distracted and from that moment on they kept trying to break him. He was tied with his back against a tree, most of his body covered in blood and a little dizzy from the loss of it.
“It’s very easy to figure out what makes you tick Odair” the district one tribute spoke to him. He couldn't see very far ahead of him, and he couldn't see you anywhere.
“What’s that supposed to mean” He was confused and angry. Confused about what they meant, why they hadn't killed him. Angry they kept him from finding you, from holding you.
“Don’t worry, you'll find out soon enough.”
And as if it was planned, right after the career had spoken, a loud, soul-cracking scream echoed around him. Finnick immediately recognized it, how could he ever forget? It couldn't be real, it had to be a trick, jabber-jays, something. But there wasn't a flock of birds around, and nothing would be able to replicate such a crushing sound. He tried closing his eyes, but when he did his imagination ran wild with images and scenarios, and it only made it worse. The only thing he could do to calm down was tell himself it wasn't real, even if he didn't believe it, repeating it like a mantra over and over.
“It isn't real, it isn't real, it isn't real.” It was nothing more than a whisper and most probably only a mumble of incoherent words.
“Oh but that's the best part Odair, it is real, and it's not gonna stop until you give us what we want. to know.”
“You’re lying” He spit out, barely able to say the next words without falling apart completely “I saw her die.” A single tear makes its way down his face as he tries to keep his composure, cracking now wouldn't do him or you any good.
“Are you willing to take that risk? She’s pretty feisty, I'll give you that, but if you don't crack soon and tell us where your friends are, she's not gonna make it.
He tried ignoring it, trying to listen to his head instead of his heart, but once again the attempt was futile. All he could hear was the screaming, even when he was sure it had actually stopped, the sound still lived in his head. It was hard to say which was worse, the deafening screams, or the silences in between.
He tried to think with his head, tried to think what you would say to him. It would probably be something along the lines of ‘don’t do anything stupid when I'm not there.’
It was far too late for that.
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When the career returned, he had a smile on his face that seemed way too happy for the situation they were in.
“She’s strong, that girl of yours, that much is true. The question is for how much longer, everyone has a point of no return, and I have a feeling she’ll cross it soon, But you can make it stop, tell us where your friends are, and it’ll stop.” The tribute had bent down so he was face to face with him, and by the look in his eyes, he now knew for sure this wasn't a bluff.
Finnick didn't know where they were, they wouldn't have stayed at the beach where he found them or at the clearing where the two of you had slept for the night. And maybe it was for the best he didn't know, because right now if he was honest with himself, he would have told them anything he knew if they wanted it. He would do anything to get to hold you again, to feel the warmth of your body against his, to feel your lips pressed against his own. But the careers weren't stupid, he had no reason to believe they would actually let you go, and even if they did, he knew a part of you would never forgive him for what he would have done.
“This is a waste of time.” He screamed, silently hoping you were close enough and conscious enough to hear his voice, hoping it would be enough to tell you not to give up. He pulled at the ropes tying his hands together with all the strength he had left, knowing it would likely not achieve anything, but hoping for it nonetheless.
But it didn't make a difference, your screams didn't stop, and his heartache didn't stop. Seconds turned into minutes, and minutes turned into hours, up until a point where Finnick couldn't tell how much time had passed. It was difficult to keep track of time when you kept blacking out, but it was peaceful in the most morbid way. He didn't sleep, he lost consciousness, so he didn't dream. When he blacked out he had a moment of peace, a moment where he didn't hear your screams echoing around in his head. But he would always wake up and have to face reality again.
He couldn't hear his heartbeat anymore, he couldn't hear his breathing or his thoughts, all he could hear was the screaming and the cries, even though he wasn't sure if they were there or if his mind kept playing tricks on him. He had always feared this, but he didn't think that his worst nightmares would actually come true.
He looked down and saw a puddle of his blood staining the ground and the leaves he was sitting on. The last thing he heard before he blacked out again was shouting coming from the distance.
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When he wakes up he can't see much, his eyes heavy and his body tired. But he can feel his cheeks getting wet, it’s a heavy liquid and he guesses it's his blood until he opens his eyes far enough to see you kneeling in front of him, your hands cupping his cheeks to lift his face while you're silently crying, the tears creating a clear path down the grime on your face.
“y/n?” His voice barely reaches a whisper, but you look up into his eyes immediately.
“Finnick, oh god, please wake up we have to get out of here.” Your voice sounds strained, and Finnick isn't sure if it's because of all the screams that must have taken a toll on you, or if the sounds have damaged his ears, he hopes for your sake it's the latter.
“No we don’t” He says with a sense of peace that doesn't match up with the predicament you're in.
“What do you mean?” You ask him, while trying to remove some of the blood stains from his skin, but failing miserably.
“We’re in heaven, aren't we, that's why you're here, I was hoping I would see you.” A sob from your throat almost interrupts his whispering, and he looks up to you again.
“Why are you covered in so much blood” He reaches out to touch your face ever so gently, as if he's scared you're only a figment of his imagination, and you could disappear anytime.
“It’s nothing, I’m alright, I’m more worried about you, you look like you could open your very own blood bank with how much you’re losing.” Your voice is shaky, and it matches the tremble of your hands.
“No need to worry about that, You're here to bring me to heaven, we’ll be together again, it’ll all be perfect.”
“Finnick listen to me! I’m not here to take you to heaven, I’m real and I'm right here in front of you and I need you to stay awake!”
Only he’s not responding to you anymore, his eyes closed again.
“Goddamnit”
You tried to lift him off the ground, but almost fell over once you got him upright. You weren't in your strongest state, and Finnick not being in any conscious state wasn't helping, his whole body weight leaning on you. You put your arm around his shoulder and put the other around his middle, trying to keep him standing so you could move. But with your hands busy trying to keep Finnick upright, you had no way to defend yourself. All the commotion must have alerted other tributes, but you didn't know how many there were to begin with, or who even started the disturbance that allowed you to break free. You thanked whoever was listening that the two of you made it out of the swamp without running into further trouble, and entered an opening of trees that finally allowed bright sunlight to touch upon your skin. You can hear footsteps close by, and prepare for the worst.
“We need to get the two of you back to the others” A familiar voice enters your ears, and you didn't know you could ever be so grateful to find Beetee.
You make your way to a lake not far away. When you get there, you refuse to leave Finnick’s side when Beetee had insisted you needed tending to as well. It was like an unspoken rule. Whenever one of you was hurt, the other didn't leave their side until you were sure they were going to be okay. But you weren't sure, and you weren't leaving him. So you lay down next to him, and the others knew it was useless to try and separate you.
After some time had passed, Finnick started to softly grunt and woke you up with him. Your face contorted in a mix of anger and pain. You leapt up into his arms. It hurt him a little with how tight you were holding him, but he didn't dare let go. Still a little afraid it wasn't real. But he could feel your breathing against his neck, hear you crying in his ear, and hear your heart beating in your chest, in sync with his, you were here, and you were okay.
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nishiyako · 9 months
Text
Intoxicated (NSFW)
Paring : Incel!Shigaraki x Drunk!Reader
Tags : Drunk sex, Blow Jobs, Hand jobs, Thigh Riding, Riding, Vaginal Penetration, Unprotected sex, Creampie, slight voyeurisim (Dabi), Pervy Shiggy, Name calling (Whore & Angel), Gaming sesh, Pre-PLF coded shiggy (Idk, I just like him that way), Happy Ending <33
Summary : The pent-up sexual frustration was building up while drinking with your colleagues, so you took a half empty bottle and went to the one guy you hoped wouldn't say no, Tomura Shigaraki.
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Tomura was the type to stay in his room in the base, doing whatever incels liked to do.
When you'd pass his door, you'd hear the clacking of a keyboard accompanied by various sound effects from video games. Just like tonight, you passed by his room while you heard just that.
You knocked on his door before waiting afew seconds, you pried the door open to see his back turned from you and eyes fixated on his monitors like always.
"Hey boss, y'gonna join us?" You asked, holding the alcohol bottles for him to see. His head only turned enough to see you in the corner of his eye, red crimson eyes seeing the bottles only to look back to the screen.
He wasn't wearing any headphones, so he was obviously ignoring you as a 'no'. You rolled your eyes before heading out of his room, closing the door in front of you.
You sat with the rest of the league. "Where's sigaraki?" Spinner asked when he saw you."He doesn't wanna join, too busy with his game or somethin' " You sighed before sitting down.
It didn't matter to them that he didn't join, but that was to them. You were at least hoping to get close to him yourself.
You'd catch him talking to Spinner about their games or Twice and Toga bothering him while you watched their antics. He avoided conversation when it wasn't needed, but he avoided you constantly. Giving you a quick answer or two if needed, then storming off.
To you, he was mysterious and attractive in a questionable way.
But to him, you were like a drug, something to stay away from. More like an innocent angel, something he shouldn't ruin with his incel bullshit.
The countless times he'd have to run back to his room with his tail in-between his legs and a painfuly hard cock all because you wore shorts that day.
You were adorable and hot. It was so unfair having someone like you on the team right there yet so out of his grasp.
He wouldn't call you a "crush" just a fuckable inconvenience.
So like that the night continued, most of them talking to eachother drunkenly telling their stories with the enthusiasm of a child, yet you we're still getting tired of them, no wonder Shigaraki always hid in that room of his.
You were drunk, the noise of your other drunk colleagues made it worse.
The worst thing was that you were horny. You hoped tonight would fainally be used to get rid of all your pent-up frustrations from the busy month, but once you got the invitation to drink, you couldn't say no.
You considered Dabi. His scars were hot, but he was too much for you. Toga? She's cute, but there's no way you could handle her. Spinner was on another dimension at this point, and Compress already called it a night and retreated to his room.
So you took a half empty bottle and went to the one guy you hoped wouldn't say no, Tomura Shigaraki.
You stood in front of the door, not hearing the clacking keys anymore but some streamer playing in the background. You didn't know which, and you didn't care.
You knocked a few times, waiting a few seconds and entering.
He noticed you enter, of course he didn't pay any mind to you, eyes still on the screen.
You stumbled to him, placing the alcohol bottle on his table, "I told you I'm not drinking." He stated, the rasp in his voice sent shivers down your spine, yet it was so addictive. turning his squeaky gamer chair to face you.
You didn't even bother to give him a response, getting on your knees with your face in between his legs, already working on the tie on his sweatpants.
"What are you!-" You hushed him, pulling down his boxers and licking the limp shaft until it got hard. you didn't know what excited you more, the fact it doubled its size, or you couldn't even close your fist around it.
You swirled your tounge in circles around the red swollen tip, giving it the occasional kiss to tease.
The door was still slightly pryed open, open enough if someone walked past in front of the door they could see you seducing the boss so drunk on Hennessy you couldn't even think.
The streamer still talking away to their chat, not knowing one of their viewers were about to get sucked off during the stream.
"Hey whore! Cut it out, you're drunk." He called your attention hoping to snap some sense into you, you were unknowingly about to give Tomura his first blowjob.
"So?" You said in a loving tone, a small giggle slipping through your lips as you lowered your head.
"It's Tomura." He said, reminding you like you mistook him for someone else, "I know." You looked up at him, your hooded eyes staring into his, admiring every feature.
The beauty mark near his lips, his deep red eyes, and the fluffy hair almost curtained over his eyes. You never really realized how cute he was out of his uniform.
Tomura swolled anxiously. If this was his fate, then so be it.
Your mouth engulfed him, tounge licking every inch of skin and sensitive gland on his cock, it would occasionally twitch on your moving sloppy tounge.
His left hand clicked the space bar, pausing whatever he was watching as his attention was now greedly stolen by you.
His right hand was placed on your head, mindful of his pinky. Petting your soft hair as your head bobbed up and down.
His raspy moans and groans polluting the room as a bit of the noise slipped through the open door, the praises of "fuck yeah." Slipping through his wounded lips, and his slightly fucked out expression lit up by the monitor.
He watched your cheeks hollow and plump lips move on his girth, tounge teasing every vein you knew was sensitive and your hand stroking whatever you couldn't handle, he was scared he was gonna wake up if he moved too much.
His abdomen tensed from the pleasure, eyes closing shut yet desperate to watch you, struggling to catch his breath in between his moans.
His mind went black, only hoping that he did join you guys for drinks. Maybe he'd find out why out of all the annoyingly hot people on the team, you chose him.
You slipped him out of your mouth, wiping the spit off your chin as you got back on your feet.
His crimson eyes met yours, confused before you straddled him in his chair, sitting over him as you removed your pajama pants, making them puddle on the cold floor.
His mind was racing, miltipule thoughts suriging a storm in his mind but he saw the one thing that could possibly make it stop and not ruin the sight, he took the bottle off the table taking a few swigs before looking back at you.
You seated on his clothed thigh, frilly pink panties against the boring Grey sweatpants he'd sport every day.
Pink fabric already stained with your lust as you grinded against his clothed thigh for friction you only dreamed of.
His finger was under your chin, forcing you to look at him. With your pleading hooded eyes and quivering lips, not to mention the adorable flushed cheeks from the achohol.
All you wanted to do was rub your needy sex against the muscle of his thigh as your hands explored the body under his black hoodie.
His sadistic eyes looked down on you when he'd occasionally jolted his leg up to make your squirm and shiver.
You heard footsteps grow closer, walking more like drunkenly stumbling to the door.
Averting your eyes was a mistake, only to be told off with a demanding "mm-m, eyes on me." From Tomura.
Of course, you complied, even stroking him during it.
The contrast of feeling your soft hands around his length was so much better than his calloused hand he used.
Shuddering breaths inches away from your lips as your hips rocked back and forth, knowing the eyes on you, yet you couldn't see who they belonged to.
Compress is asleep, Spinner? No, he wouldn't stay that long, Toga? Probably would walk away just hearing the sounds. So it was Dabi, that creep.
Even though the embarrassment was painful, it still felt good to know someone's watching you have the privilege to grind on the boss so earnestly.
Stroking his cock as his hands were busy holding your face up so he could examine you and holding the shared alcohol bottle in his other hand.
Tomura let go of your chin, giving you the opportunity to look while he guided your legs to straddle him.
And your guess was correct, you and Dabi were looking at each other as he leaned against the doorframe, giving you a condescending grin as he watched you fall apart on the boss's deadly touch.
You looked back at shigaraki, he was well aware of the captive audience watching the both of you be he didn't care as usual, he didn't care who you'd fuck after this, aslong as he got to right now.
He guided your hips to lower onto him, slowly sinking down on him.
he held you by your hips supporting your movements, controlling your pace as you grinded with him inside, you moand into his ear only to get him harder, twitching against your gummy walls.
It didn't take long before he made you start bouncing, he looked at you so enfacueted, you looked so perfect to him, hair a mess and so intoxicated on his cock, your arms wrapped around his neck as you pleaded for his kisses.
Dabi watched the scene, feeling his cock strain against the fabric of his clothes, watching your adorable expressions while you fucked someone with that kind of power.
It was annoyingly hot.
He could watch all he wanted, but he knew once Tomura was done with you, you were forever off limits.
He closed the door infront of him, giving you both some privacy before leaving to his room, probably just gonna stroke himself to that mental image of you fucking him instead.
Tomura took his fainal drink, placing the empty bottle on his table. Sure, it tasted bad, but at least he was feeling even better now.
His hands fainally explored your body, tracing your curves and stomach before finding their place on your waist, thumbs rubbing against the skin over your ribcage.
Your foreheads pressed together, moaning against his lips as he watched how your warm body moved, tempered by the alcohol it only made everything better and a bit sloppy.
Your insides coating his cock in a white opaque liquid from all your pent up frustrations, all those nights you couldn't get off from the busy schedule.
Your legs tensed, feeling him hit your sweet spot over and over again, so painfully good it had you seeing stars every time you rutted against him.
The sudden ego boost getting to his head watching you writhe on his cock, your hands pawing at his soft hair, giving the occasional tug.
Your back arched, his face buried in the crook of your neck, working on a few love bites and hickies to discover in the morning.
He was bigger than expected or you were just more pent up than you knew, regardless of who needed this more you knew this wouldn't be the last.
Your bounces became faster, more needy for the feeling of his tip hitting your gushing cervix, the smug smirk you saw on his face, and the ghostly touches on you skin.
Your movements were animalistic, yet something about his static nature claimed you, watching you get off drunkenly using him.
You were zealous on the pleasure, now pawing at his hoodie, tugging as a sign of your limits before he clicked his tongue stealing your attention.
"Just a bit longer, angel." His raspy voice saying sweet things, maybe it was the alcohol but that meant a lot to you.
He knew you weren't as innocent as you looked, coming into his room to suck and ride him, yet something about you was angelic.
Not to mention the look of bliss you had on your face at that name, 'angel, angel.' His voice ricochet around your head.
"I don't think I can, boss." You managed to slip through your moans, so adorable that you're still calling him that.
"It was an order." His voice low, almost like a growl. His lips met the skin of your jaw, and you tried your best to hold on, savoring the sensations.
Your shakey legs and breaths were so painfuly obvious to him that he had to watch you like this for even a bit longer.
He hasn't felt touch in a while, and now suddenly being flooded with such intimate contact made him berserk.
With one pull on your waist, he thrusted into you, releasing all his pent-up seed inside you, flooding and painting your gummy walls with his warm fluids.
The knot in your stomach shaped with his forceful actions, making you squirm on his lap and grip on his clothing while letting out the most erotic moan he's ever heard.
Far better than whatever porn he used to watch.
•••
You woke up with a pulsing headache, eyes opening to see the familiar room and Shigaraki on his computer set up that was right beside his bed.
He sat there peacefully, headphones in so you wouldn't wake up from the various video game sound effects he'd usually blast.
An empty Hennessy bottle on his desk and your pajama pants nicely folded at the feet of the bed, you sat up, gaining Tomuras attention.
He looked at you, acknowledging your presence for what felt for the first time.
He braced himself for the names you'd call him 'creep, pervert, peice of shit' he was ready for anything except when you stayed quiet, rubbing your eyes adjusting to the harsh light of the monitor.
You didn't care that you were half naked in his bed, just caring about where breakfast is.
"Hey, wanna get pizza?" You said casually, your voice still a bit groggy.
Tomura removed one side of his headphones, "seriously? That's all you're gonna ask." He said in his usual dead tone, his raspy voice with a croak as you guessed he woke up only a few minutes ago.
Unlike last night, he was playing a single player game so now he had the privilege to pause so he could actually listen to you.
His headphones dangled around his neck, turning his chair to face you.
He saw you already on your phone, looking through the pizza shops website for new deals.
"Are you ignoring me?" He asked, his voice turning gruff. He could ignore everyone if he wanted to, but he couldn't stand being ignored.
"No." You said clacking away at your phone screen. "I asked you a question, and you didn't answer properly. You're actually ignoring me." You teased.
"Now what do you want." You said placing the phone to your ear, "Anythings fine." He muttered as you spoke to the employee on the other side of the phone.
•••
You sat on the floor of his bedroom, eating slice after slice while he ate beside you having your first conversation together when he suddenly asked a question.
"Do you remember last night?" He asked before swallowing down the food he was eating, "Last night? A couple of things, why?" You asked back, hoping you didn't have anything important you had to do that night.
"Well, we fucked last night. Don't know if you remembered that." He said, a pink hue forming on his cheeks from the embarrassment of having to remind you.
"Yeah, I remember." You said grabbing another slice like it wasn't anything important.
He was honestly stunned how comfortable you were like this, sitting with him on the floor eating pizza while you only wore your panties and top. You were practically strangers last night.
"I'm the one who initiated it dumbass, of course I remember." You said,"Not everything, but I know it was good." You confessed.
It was like a weird dream, remembering fragments of the night every few minutes.
"So, why?" He asked, almost concerned in his sentence. "I was horny, You were cute. You connect the dots." You said with a giggle in your sentence.
"Right.." he said, he never had anyone call him that.
Minutes pass, hours, actually. Yet you willingly stayed in his room listening to him rant about his games, and he'd listen to you rant about your interests.
When night feel you decided to head out, you both spent the whole day talking you lost track of time, Shigaraki watched you walk away opening the door before he spoke.
"Hey," he called out, you looked behind you to see him pulling out a set of controllers for the both of you.
He mentioned he had a few controller friendly games on his PC a few hours ago.
"About those games.." he cut his sentence, trying to find the words until he noticed you shut the door and walked towards him.
He was never the best with words, but you understood him and the awkward language he spoke.
You sat in between his legs, grabbing one of the controllers from his hands.
He memorized every button on the controller already, so he wrapped his arms around your waist, keeping you seated as his chin rested above your head.
He'd talk to you later about getting a separate chair if this would be a usual occurrence, but right now, it was just you and him with the controllers and monitor.
Finally, replacing your noisy teammates with the peace you found in each other.
A/N : I'm alive!! Sorry I haven't posted, I got my first case of REALLY BAD writers block, but now I got back into my element!
(Solution to Writters block : Get zonked 🍃)
To all of those who sent asks, I SWEAR I DO ALL ASKS JUS GIVE ME SOME TIME <33 :sob:
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